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BEHIND 

THE DIAMOND 

PANES 



1 he story of a Fife mining community 

by 
BOB HOLMAN 



Cowdenbeath, 1952 






PRINTED BY 

WEST FIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY LTD. 

34 BRUCE STREET, DUNFERMLINE 




\ 









I2S ^st-. rr —■• 



The characteristic Diamond Panes of Fordell village 



FOREWORD 



II Hi history books of Scotland record the time and place 
ol' great events in our National history. But much of the 
record of the Scottish people is lost for want of a recorder. 
Morc's the pity. 

In bygone days, communities were established near the 
M-i-nc of industry and prospered while they served their pur- 
pose. Then they passed away leaving little more than a pang 
of regret in the hearts of those who knew their joys and 

NOITOWS. 

Old mining villages had a special atmosphere, with habits 
unci customs which passed from one generation to another, 
and the village of Fordell in the County of Fife was a very 
outstanding example. 

The old rows of houses have served their day and gener- 
ation. New homes have been found for the village people 
in nearby towns and villages and little is left to tell their story. 
This book records in simple language the wealth of char- 
ititcr and warmth of heart that used to dwell in Fordell 
village. It illustrates the pawky humour and neighbourly 
I'celing that made life worth living in times that were hard 
unci often sorely trying. The author did not intend this book 
(o be a classic of the English language. But by his real under- 
standing of miners and mining folk, Bob Holman has made 
il worthy of its subject. 

Whether you were born in Fordell, or in nearby Doni- 
bi islle as I was, or just somewhere else in Scotland, you will 
Unci much pleasure, as I did, in reading these pages — so full 
ol' human sympathy. 

WILLIAM REID, 
( Yossgates, Chairman, 

|.'jfc, Scottish Division, 

October, 1952. National Coal Board. 



*jUSflWuk^ 



M 



ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

THE author thanks many of his old Fordell friends for their 
great assistance in writing this book. Also to Mr Morris 
Allan, photographer, Dunfermline, for his assistance and 
photos; to Mr Inglis, Alva, for use of photographic blocks. 
For that beautiful and encouraging friendship with the family 
I submit appreciation and thanks to Dr W. Reid. 



CONTENTS 






Page 


The Paraud 


11 


The Great Day and its origin 


16 


Preparation and appointment of Deacon 


19 


On the March 


21 


1 he Paraud Denner 


22 


Fordell Ball ; 


24 


The Paraud Sports 


27 


Spirit of the prizes 


29 


The Markinch cabbage 


32 


The Brass Band 


36 


Well known players 


39 


The Flooer Show 


43 


lordcll "Store" 


47 


The Fordell Watties 


51 


"Paddy" Clark and the " Berridges " 


54 


Nehulc days and the Dominie 


56 


Schulc leaving 


58 


Coortin' days 


60 


A Fordell waddin' : 


63 


A private waddin' ... 


66 


The Readin' Room Denner 


72 


The Sunday school picnic 


74 


The evenin' danner wi' music 


77 


Neebors a' ... ■•• • 


79 


The toll of the pits 


83 


My brothers keeper 


85 


John Tamson's bairns 


89 


The Lowdeners 


92 


Mr Currie and family 


94 


Hoys will be boys 


97 


A tough breed 


. 100 


Under the surface ... 


102 


The care of the aged 


104 


A village family 


.. 105 


Heroic women 


.. 108 


Selcrday nicht ... 


.. 113 


Slory of the Fordell miners ... 


.. 114 


Personal stories and anecdotes 


.. 120 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE DIAMOND PANES Frontispiece 

PICTURE OF ST DAVID'S HARBOUR 

WILLIAM PIT, LAST OF THE OLD FORDELL PITS 

THE COALEDGE TAVERN 

ONE OF THE ORIGINAL FORDELL WAGGONS 

FORDELL BRASS BAND 

MR AND MRS SMART AND THEIR FAMILY 

REV. JOHN CLARK, ROBBIE HARDIE, FRED STEVEN 

HARRY LAUDER; JOHN SMART; JOHN BENNET SMART- 
PICTURED WITH THEIR WIVES 



INTRODUCTION 

I u RE is a story of a small mining community in Scotland, 
.lose to the main Kirkcaldy-Dunfermline Road, yet with a 
w;iy of life peculiar to it, a village of less than two hundred 
people complete in itself, inhabited by generations of the 
same families for hundreds of years. A community of hard- 
headed, practical inhabitants, with a kindly outlook, yet of 

I I ic most conservative nature; they practically cut themselves 
from the outside world but lived for themselves not as in- 
dividuals but as a village. Independent to a fault, just living 
on the existence line, they sought assistance from no outside 
<iuarter to attend to their needy and aged, but did so them- 
selves with a modesty that shunned publicity. True they 
had limited recreation and amusements mostly as village 

nccrns and were thus, all the more enthusiastically carried 



co 

Ollt. 



In connection with their one form of employment, namely, 
coal mining, there were two unique features, a private rail- 
way—one of the very few in Britain— that took the coal from 
I ho village mines to a private harbour on the Fife coast 
live miles away, in characteristic small hand-braked waggons 
l hat had done service for over two hundred years. Like the 
miners the colliery proprietors were also members of gener- 
al ions of one family whom the miners served with unbroken 
devotion. 



Dedicated to the memory of my late wife Rankin 

and our late daughter Kitty 

without whose encouragement 

the book would never have been written.. 



CHAPTER I. 

The Paraud 

THERE was great activity at the old school house. 
From my position on a prominent part near the 
College Brae I stood watching, waiting. 

From the different rows of miners' houses dressed 
children came hurrying out followed by such cries as " noo 
Tam, dinna get dirtied afore the ' paraud ' or yir f aither'U 
skin you alive." Back came the answer invariably, " A' richt, 
mither." 

Then followed a shout, a chance interrogation cry, " Are 
you ready, Willie," and without waiting for a reply Tam made 
a wild rush round Coles Terrace to run full tilt into a com- 
panion whom he had said he would " fecht wi' ae arm tied 
roon ma back." 

That was all forgotten, for was not this the yin day o' the 
year! The twa bools and the plunker they were fighting aboot 
when the schulemaister stopped them Tam was willing to 
give his rival for nothing. 

I saw a number of laughing young women beautifully 
dressed in white coming along arm in arm from the direction 
of Lovers' Lone. One carried a decorated sash of many col- 
ours in which ribbons formed the principal gaudiness. 

How were they dressed? Just as I expected — some with 
hats and some without, but all had long hair hanging behind 
and, in front, the inevitable " frizz." 

A stop was made as the girls, seeing some male com- 
panions standing at the Gaffers Gate, cried out their customary 
salutations such as " Hullo Wull, has yir mither let ye oot? " 
and "Mind that reel you promised me." The replies were 
no less characteristic but the greetings and salutations were 
soon changed from the verbal to the more intimate and soon 
Wull had his arms around Jean's neck to give her a " Chinney 
Beardie." 

If the object was to give Jean a rosy complexion then 
the operation was highly successful, and generally Wull's face 
was also red from the exertion required and the result of 
one or two hard slaps from Jean in her struggles to get free. 

Soon a favoured young man was honoured with "try 



12 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

on the sash," and when he did there were words of admir- 
ation — " Man Rab you look real like the thing." However 
their fun was for the time being brought to an end by a 
shout from an elderly man who cried out, " Here dinna mess 
that sash aboot if I have to wear it the day. Come on, let me 
see it and let us see what kind o' job you lasses have made 
o't this time." 

" By, that's braw," was his only comment as he admired 
the work of the girls, who had stayed up late the night before 
to sew in the many ribbons which hung from the sash. 

" Wha's to pit it on? You Jeannie? Come on then lass. 
Let me bend doon. That's richt. Noo for the usual kiss. That's 
fine, that taks thirty years aff my life, Jeannie." 

A loud banging on a drum nearby caused a stir and 
there was a cry, " There's Peter Gibb the drummer wanting 
the Paraud to start." 

Yes, I saw this scene from the College Brae as my mind 
went back sixty years. The boy rushing from his mother's 
house was myself. 

The scene I had recalled was Fordell Paraud, a scene I 
had pictured scores of times hundreds of miles away, but 
here I was revisiting the scenes of my youth, unrecognised 
and unknown. 

Coles Terrace was unchanged and no doubt it was the 
shape of the small diamond-shaped windows in the houses, 
the old school still the same, the " Lovers' Lone," the old 
pit in Douglas Cottages, the roof of Fordell Store, the Pan- 
nies playground, and Day Level Pit, near the unchanged 
Workshops, that made the picture so easy to imagine. 

Yes, there it was, and as I lay with closed eyes in that 
field with my back to a hay rick, no cinema picture could be 
clearer. 

Soon the rounding up by Peter Gibb on his drum did 
what was necessary. Near by was " Robbie Hardie " ; I 
recognised him quite distinctly. All he wanted was to get to 
hit that drum, but Peter replied, " no the noo." However, 
Robbie, years later, replaced Peter Gibb on that drum, and 
realised the ambitions he had that day. 

" Come on, you boys," cried the Deacon. (All men are 
boys on Paraud Day in Fordell. They are only men when 
appealed to). " We havena a' day to get ready." Then right 
in front went the Deacon, proud of his sash. I easily recognise 
him, it is Rab Penman. 

" Twinny " Beveridge, the band leader, gets his men out. 
I recognise them all with their new uniform, including their 



THE PARAUD 13 

pill box caps. They take their places behind the Deacon. 
The Committee come next and the procession marches a few 
paces forward to allow the " Hill Women," pithead girls, all 
dressed in white, arm in arm and in threes, to take their 
place. 

Then follow the villagers who never miss a "paraud." 
The names? Why they were nearly all Beveridges! There 
was Beveridge A, Beveridge B, Beveridge C, Beveridge D, 
and aye, there was Beveridge (Wilson) and Beveridge 
Dumplin'. Others were there; yes, there was Tam Dryburgh, 
Willie Smart, Johnnie Japp, the other members of the Pen- 
man family, Peter, Eck and Tam, with their sister, Aggie, 
looking on with admiration at her brother the Deacon. 

Then came the schoolchildren, wonderfully quiet for a 
Paraud morning. The reason was that the " schulemaister," 
Mr James Currie, senior, was looking on. Only an occasional 
cheer until the procession got beyond his sight, and then 
they were beyond his control. 

" Are you ready, boys," said Jimmy Carmichael, and at 
a nod of his head, Peter Gibb sounded the first beat of his 
drum. At the third the Paraud marched off to the tune of 
" Ho, Ho, The Merry Masons." One loud cheer drowned the 
first few notes and soon the procession was on its way. 

There was no denying the Paraud was an impressive 
sight. The parade as it left the old school was one of which 
all the people in the village were justifiably proud. 

In the bright sunshine of the mid-summer morning the 
procession marched gallantly down the road. Fordell Brass 
Band was on the lead, while at intervals standard-bearers 
carried banners, the poles of which were gaily decorated with 
flowers, begged, borrowed or stolen the night before from the 
flower gardens. 

It was Fordell's great event of the year, which extended 
to three days, and in the celebrations no outsider was allowed 
to participate. The only exception was when extra bands were 
needed for the Paraud, and on one occasion three bands were 
actually in the procession. After the procession these outside 
musicians were again " strangers " and dare not use the fact 
of their being " in the band " for one day, as a means of 
breaking through the rigid rule that strangers were not 
wanted. 

Any attempt to get past the rules, that could not have 
been more stringent had they been drafted into a constitution, 
was defeated by a solid village veto. This was the unwritten 
law of the village, which included part of Mossgreen until 



14 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

recent years. "From January till January and a' day and 
every day, year in and year oot." 

There were several who tried to break down that rule, 
but the attempts always failed, and if a " stranger " came to 
reside in Fordell he was generally frozen out in a short time. 

I remember on one occasion three families of miners com- 
ing to Fordell in one day from the Lothians. There were 
instantly meetings and consultations, for while the ordinary 
stranger was not wanted, " Lowdeners " were openly detested. 

They could " thole " folk from Crossgates or even Doni- 
bristle or " Dirthill," as it was called, though they would not 
confer the honour of allowing them to be looked upon as 
villagers, but " Lowdeners " to come and bide in Fordell, 
why it was an outrage! 

Short of sending round the village bell to call a meeting 
and ask them to leave the way they came— namely, by Aber- 
dour and the Leith ferry — everything else was done. The 
women of the village discussed the " outrage " at the " wall," 
and the men discussed the matter at the " College." The " hill 
women " had the question before them at " piece time." The 
only ones, however, who really took drastic action were the 
schule bairns. The girls refused to speak to the girl 
" strangers." The boys went further; they stoned the boys 
from the schule at Mossgreen. 

Mr Currie, the schoolmaster, got to hear of this and his 
threats of the tawse had some effect — at least the boys in 
attendance at school stopped the stone throwing. Still no one 
could stop the villagers from thinking and looking in an 
unfriendly way or passing remarks. 

" How long must a person be a stranger in Fordell?", 
was often asked by those outside the sacred precincts denned 
by the Bulwark and the Durham Raw. In the minds of some 
a stranger could never become a Fordell native. 

Maggie Watson, who came to the village as a bride, used 
to say that it would take fifty years for her to pass the initi- 
ation ceremony. Yet she was married to one of the 
" Berridges," as the name Beveridge was called, a family 
which may have been one of the founders of the village. If 
that is true, then Maggie has not long passed into the sacred 
circle of Fordellites, but no doubt to the children of the real 
Fordeilites Maggie was always a stranger. 

A friend of mine was walking past Mossgreen Church- 
yard one Saturday morning many years ago when he saw a 
funeral. The cortege had come up the College Brae. 

He knew quite a number of persons in Fordell and a iked 



THE PARAUD 15 

who was getting buried, but the reply that it was only a 
stranger put the question of identification of the dead person 
out of his mind. 

To his surprise a month later, he found that the person 
who was being buried was an old acquaintance of his — a 
workmate who had been resident in the village for forty 
years. 

But there was another irritant feature of the invasion of 
the three families from the Lothians. One of the men wore a 
hat. Not only so, but he wore it every day. This was unheard 
of. 

On the first day after the man came from his work in the 
Lady Ann Pit, and after he got washed and had his dinner, 
he appeared in the Old Square wearing a bowler hat. This 
was an outrage— a miner, a common or ordinary miner, 
wearing a hat! The only man in Fordell or nearby who wore 
a hat " through the week " was the minister, John dark. 

The colliery manager nor the gaffer, not even the doctor, 
wore a hat on week days. Hidden away in a trunk in every 
house in Fordell was a hat of some sort, a tile hat or a round 
hat, but they were not for ordinary occasions. They were for 
funerals, not even for ordinary kirk service, and after the 
funeral they were carefully dusted, put into a paper bag and 
laid away for the next occasion when a native died. 

Here was a man who wore a hat every day, even to 
" gaun to the toon " with his wife to carry home the week's 
groceries. Why the thing was preposterous! Soon he became 
known by no name except " The Man wi' the Hat." 

He even went to a quoiting match with his hat, and 
when the local man who was upholding the quoiting reputa- 
tion of Fordell lost the match, his only excuse was — "Hoo 
can a body play wi' a man wi' a hat lookin' on?" 



CHAPTER II. 

The Great Day and its origin 

BY this time those of you who are not versed in the 
history of Fordell will be wondering what this 
Paraud actually was. You will have ere this associated the 
word with Parade, but you will be wondering why the parade, 
why the holiday festivity, and why it should be associated 
with this little out of the way and, for generations, isolated 
mining village of Fordell. 

Well, you were quite right with the association with the 
word parade, but the reason why this parade should be held 
every year in Fordell makes quite an interesting story. 

An old friend of mine, who saw many Fordell Parades, 
used to recite the words of a song which, she said, was com- 
posed by a Fordell man. Of this song I can only remember 
one verse and the chorus. They ran as follows: — 
Then we went to Anson Hill, 
The barrels were there wi' five guinea ale, 
And the ravens got in to spill 
On the 20th day of July. 
Chorus: — 

Hurray, Hurray, for the Fordell Laird, 
Lang in Fordell may they be spared, 
And the miners' bounty even shared 
On the 20th day of July. 
To me it seemed rather two verses of the song than a 
verse and chorus, but they verify a few things I heard about 
the Paraud. Firstly, the event was held on 20th July each 
year or the Friday nearest that date. The song also proves 
that some of the festivities took place at Anson Hill, which 
is still the home of the manager of the Fordell Coal Com- 
pany, and opposite Mossgreen Church. 

The ravens, my informant said, were not of the crow 
family but a name given to the men of the village of the 
more boisterous type who laid siege to the barrels of " five 
guinea ale." 

As to the origin of the Paraud, I have got all my inform- 
ation from old inhabitants — information which has been 
handed down for generation, and I offer no further proof. 



THE GREAT DAY AND ITS ORIGIN 17 

Fordell is one of the oldest mining districts in Scotland 
or England. Old shafts in fields and many in gardens walled 
round about, and remnants of shafts long since filled in, give 
ample evidence of this. Nearly every field has such an old 
coal pit shaft, and in several there is still evidence of wooden 
stairs that tell of the days when the women walked up the 
shafts carrying the coals in creels or wicker baskets. 

The earliest coal pits belonged to the lairds or ground 
proprietors, and at Fordell it is well known the laird was 
always a Henderson, to whom I will refer later. In these early 
days of mining not only did the coal pits belong to the lairds, 
but the miners belonged to him as well, so that when the pits 
changed hands the miners went with them, and they had a 
new master whom they had no option but to serve. 

The miners were serfs, and exaggerated stories handed 
down from generation to generation tell of how they were 
chained to the hutches and how any " gangrel body " walking 
past the coal mines was liable, as in the days of the press- 
gang, to be seized and turned into a serf of the mines. 

There was never any doubt about the miners being serfs 
or slaves, but it is surprising how the stories arose of miners 
being chained to hutches. 

There were no deep shafts in these early days, and from 
the appearance of coal workings at Blairadam, recently ex- 
posed by the working of a quarry for " blae " to make bricks, 
the bottom of the shaft was only a few feet from the surface. 

There was no doubt that in the early days of coal mining 
in Fordell, or even at Dunfermline, it was the " crap oot," or 
surface seams, which were worked, the inlet being at the 
place where the coal " cropped out " or, in other words, came 
to the surface. 

These days of serfdom had, of course, to come to an 
end, and this introduces the origin of the Fordell Paraud. 
The Laird of Fordell realised that the freedom of the miners 
was coming soon and, no doubt, being in sympathy with the 
movement for legislation that was going on to liberate them, 
he granted them their freedom exactly a year before the time 
when it became law, and set a splendid example and assisted 
in the passing of the act. 

The Fordell miners, to commemorate the occasion, 
organised the Fordell Paraud, a day of rejoicing for their 
liberation. 

I cannot tell you the exact date on which the Fordell 
miners got their freedom from serfdom, but it was a very 
long time ago. 

B 



18 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

I have been told that the Day Level, an underground 
waterway connecting all the pits in Fordell to an outlet near 
Fordell House, was made by French prisoners in the time of 
the Napoleonic War, and, if that is so, then the Paraud must 
have been started before that time, and may have been cele- 
brated in the 18th century. 

What is known is that the Paraud Day was near as 
possible to the 20th July, a date referred to in the song I 
have quoted above. As can be understood, it was a very im- 
portant event in the village life of Fordell, for it lasted three 
days — Friday, Saturday and Monday. The absence of cele- 
brations on Sunday denotes that the observance of the sanctity 
of the Sabbath must have also been a strong point in the life 
of the miner, as it was in the life of all the people of Scotland. 



CHAFfER III. 

Preparations and appointment 
of Deacon 

FOR three months in the year the thoughts of the 
villagers were on the Paraud. In the month of May 
each year a written notice appeared on the pitheads stating 
that a meeting would be held to appoint a Deacon and 
Committee. 

These notices were sufficient to bring a large crowd to the 
scene of the meeting, namely, The Pannies, a pieces of com- 
munal ground between the colliery office and the Engine Pit, 
but to ensure a large crowd the Brass Band paraded the 
principal rows of houses and then made for the Pannies, 
followed by the inhabitants. 

The Deacon of the previous year called the meeting to 
order, a duty that for many years fell on Peter Penman, then 
on his oldest son, Peter. There was little difficulty in choosing 
the Deacon as it was nearly always a case of re-election, that 
rule being only broken by death or illness. 

Thus Peter would be elected again, and then would follow 
the election of the Committee, a word that was always pro- 
nounced with a long "tee." 

Then would follow the nomination of such prominent men 
of the village as John Japp, James Hope, Tom Beveridge, 
Bob Ramsay, Twinny Beveridge, Eck Penman, Rab Penman, 
Wattie Muir. The Committee would be elected, the meeting 
would end, the band would render a few selections and would 
play back to the old school, their meeting-place, generally 
by way of the College, where little encouragement would 
make them stop to partake of the hospitality of Mrs Hamilton. 

The Committee, with the Deacon appointed, lost no time 
in getting to business. Because of a special privilege by the 
Sheriff the Deacon of Fordell Paraud had a special licence 
to sell beer and spirits for six weeks before the Paraud and 
six weeks after it. This meant that the Deacon's house was 
turned into a miniature public-house for three months. 

The Committee would make their usual calls on Fordell 
Store to ask the price of the barrel of beer. For many years 



20 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

the tenant of Fordell Store was a Mr James Hamilton, son 
of Mr Hamilton of St. David's, but no one in Fordell used 
such a formal name as James, it was always " Jimmy." 

Later Messrs. Fraser & Carmichael, Dunfermline, leased 
the premises, and in turn the managers were first of all James 
Dick, or rather, to follow the local custom, Jimmy Dick, 
now of D.C.I. Ltd., Dunfermline, and later Fred Steven, later 
resident in Cowdenbeath. 

The Committee would inevitably . tell the manager that 
his price was more than Mrs Hamilton's — price that was in 
every case a shilling or two less than the figure wanted by the 
Fordell Store. Then when the price was reduced to that of 
Mrs Hamilton's, the Committee would march to Mrs Hamil- 
ton and inform her that she would get her share of the order 
of beer at the same price as they were getting it at Fordell 
Store. 

It was only when Mrs Hamilton and Fred Steven met to 
discuss matters, that they found how they had been done, 
and yet the next year the same trick was played. 

The whisky the Committee bought direct from the Grange 
Distillery at Burntisland — always a grand excuse for a jaunt 
to the coast town. 

The special licence to the Committee was seldom abused. 
The barrels of beer were kept in a cellar either at the Fordell 
Store or at the College and were taken away in pails as re- 
quired. The Deacon was the keeper of the keys of the cellars. 

In the days before the McKenzie Act restricted the licen- 
sing hours there were a few late nights, but auld Peter Penman 
did not favour such events, and with his customary, " Working 
day the morn, chaps," he got his room cleared at quite a 
reasonable hour. 

" Eck " Penman, who told me that he was never the 
Deacon but often had the chance of the honour, and that his 
oldest brother, Peter, still alive and resident in Brand's Build- 
ings, Crossgates, and over ninety years of age, was reputed 
to be a very strict Deacon and did not give the habitues of 
the house at 1 Monteith Terrace too much rope or too much 
drink. 

" He steyed in this very hoose I am steyin' in noo, as 
oor fether, Peter Penman, afore us, the auldest Deacon I 
mind o'," said Alexander. " Peter is the only Deacon left, 
and wi' Davie Philip, noo bidin' in Cowdenbeath, and me, 
the last members of Fordell Paraud Committee." 



CHAPTER IV. 

On the March 

AGAIN I visualise the Paraud on its way to the Big 
Hoose at Fordell after the procession has made a 
tour of the village. They proceed by way of the mineral 
railway on which is taken the coal to St. Davids, a private 
port on the Forth, owned by the proprietors of the Fordell 
Colliery. Of course a Fordell Wattie never says St. Davids, 
but the broad version of the name — St. Dauvids. 

Along the railway the road breaks off to Fordell House, 
and I can see the happy gathering approaching Fordell House 
with Fordell Brass Band still leading. I can see Lady Hender- 
son coming forward to welcome the marchers. After the part 
of the welcome which is verbal and is recipcrocated, I can 
see the " spiritual " welcome which is very much to the liking 
of the older men in the procession and they are soon toasting 
the hostess, the lairds who have gone before, and all persons 
connected with the Henderson family. 

In another corner the pithead girls are each presented 
with a pound of sweets and the merriment increases, to be 
broken into by a general invitation to inspect the gardens. 

Then comes the time when they must return to Fordell, 
and the procession again forms up to make the return journey 
by way of Crossgates, Springhill and Mossgreen. The whole 
countryside could not mistake that it was the day of Fordell 
Paraud. 

At Anson Hill, the home of the colliery manager, every- 
thing was in preparation for more festivities. The manager, 
whether it was in the days of Mr Robertson or Mr Morton, 
received the people and, according to the song, " The barrels 
were there wi' five guinea ale." Some idea of the exuberance 
of the male section of the paraders can be gained by the 
following line — "And the ravens got in to spill." 

There was something for everyone, old or young, and the 
fun went on apace until well on in the night. The children, 
tired with their play, went home to bed, but not so the older 
people. 



CHAPTER V. 

The Paraud Denner 

I O the menfolk who were in the know and in favour 
JL with the Committee the attraction was the Paraud 
Dinner in the house of the Deacon — and what a night! 

The principal item on the menu for the dinner was " saut 
fish," mostly " saut skate," a dish that required days of pre- 
paration. Not only days, but nights too, were required, as 
for days previously the salted skate and cod had been lying 
on the tiles of the house to get it into the right condition. 
During the Paraud Day this had been boiled and was ready 
to be served on that night of nights in the Fordell calendar. 

I can quite understand a smile of understanding on your 
face at salt fish being the principal item on the menu that 
night. The same suspicion often entered my mind as it 
entered the minds of many more, and I venture to suggest 
that we are all right. 

A miner's house then, as it has been the order for many 
years until a few years ago, was a " but and ben." The " but " 
was the kitchen and the " ben " the parlour, bedroom and 
sitting-room all rolled into one. 

It was in such a two-roomed house that the Paraud 
Denner was held for many years at No. 1 Monteith Terrace. 
No. 10 Downing Street to Londoners is of no more import- 
ance than No. 1 Monteith Terrace was to the Fordell 
villagers. 

There were " tatties " with jackets off and " tatties " with 
jackets on, and the meal was served with beer drawn from 
a barrel in the corner. When the crowd was largest, this meal 
was served in both the " but " and the " ben." 

The chairman, the Deacon, made everyone feel at home 
and with song and music, in which a raelodeon or fiddle 
figured, the fun went on until midnight, when the revellers 
reluctantly took their leave, reluctant because of the know- 
ledge that the chairman could not use his customary warning 
about next day being a working day. 

A little after midnight a policeman would make his 
appearance, but all he could see were small groups of the 
oldest men discussing, in not too low voices, of how many 



THE PARAUD DENNER 23 

Parauds they had seen, what to their minds had been the 
best Parauds, and what each of them would do if he was the 
Deacon. 

There is nothing like a drink just a little over the moderate 
stage to revive memories and to make all the world sociable, 
and in the early morning at many a comer-end stories were 
told of Paraud Day experiences of many years before. The 
glories, traditions, and accomplishments of Fordell Brass 
Band were always brought to the fore, and as a large number 
of the gathering at the Paraud Denncr were members or past 
members of the band, stories of the band's performances were 
told with pride. These stories were inter-mixed with details 
of ploys that brought out hilarious laughter. 

Such incidents detailed in great detail, often at the expense 
of one of the company or a relative, refreshed the memory of 
other such incidents and often " Do you mind o' yon? " 
started another. Real danger was introduced when someone 
started an argument on the merits of the original flute band 
compared with the brass band that followed, but the danger 
of a first-class lively scene was averted by a timely jocular 
remark. Gradually the gathering started to disperse in twos. 

As the door of one of the revellers was reached, a feminine 
voice would ring out, " Are ye no' comin' in the nicht, Wull. 
You had better say ' guid nicht,' or ' guid mornin' ' raither." 

" A' richt, Leeb," one would reply, " I'm jist comin' in, 
just wait a wee while till I see Tam roond the coarner." A 
few minutes later one reveller would get home shouting about 
how he would meet his pal of the previous night at the sports 
to-day and he was " gey weel shure he would bate him in the 
auld man's race." 

" You never supped the parritch," came the reply. 

The last words, however, were more pleasant and were 
generally, " I'll see you the morn," forgetting the day had 
been begun already by about two hours. 



CHAPTER VI. 

Fordell Ball 

I WISH I could take all my readers back sixty or seventy 
years with me to the old School in Fordell on the night 
of Fordell Ball. 

Some may ask if the village could only boast one dance 
in the year. Certainly not; they had several dances, including 
the Foresters' Ball, the Gardeners' Ball, and others, but in 
the life of the village there was only one " Fordell Ball." It 
was always on the Friday, the first night of the Paraud cele- 
brations, and was held in the Auld Schule. 

Now just have a look into the building, which you will 
see is crowded, and between nine o'clock and ten o'clock 
others are still being squeezed in. 

There are the two fiddlers on a suspiciously rocky platform 
made up of hali seats. Yes, it is Willie Berridge and partner 
from Crossgates and they have just finished playing the first 
dance, which is the Grand March round the hall and then 
there is the call " Get set for the Circassian Circle." 

The changing of partners in this dance always acts as a 
kind of re-union, and the different greetings round the hall is 
ample indication that the company of dancers are about the 
same as the previous year. 

One thing will have struck you also, and that is that there 
is no array of ball dresses and frocks. That is quite true, as 
it is a recognised rule that the young ladies must come in 
the dresses they have worn during the day's Paraud cele- 
brations. 

There is no doubt you will have recognised by this time 
that this is responsible for a more than usually happy gather- 
ing, and the want of that reserve generally associated with the 
wearing of orthodox ballroom garments. 

Unlike the other dances in the village, no written or printed 
invitations were sent out. They were not required. The danc- 
ing element of the village had been looking forward to this 
night, and all who cared to come forward were admitted, 
until the room was filled to its utmost capacity. Even when 
that stage was apparently reached, others got in. 

In the earlier days of the Fordell Ball, there was the 



FORDELL BALL 25 

selection of the belle of the ball, and stories are still plentiful, 
and handed down with a certain amount of pride, of how 
someone's aunt, mother, or even grandmother, was the belle 
of Fordell Ball one particular year. 

The young ladies marched round the hall and a selection 
committee, after careful judging, for their decision was always 
very much criticised, chose the belle of the ball. This honour 
meant that the chosen one's partner for the night had to pay 
forfeit sweets to the young ladies and something equally 
acceptable to the men. 

Gradually the selection of the belle came to be recognised 
by the company that a certain young lady was the prettiest 
dressed and most attractive present, but no forfeits were paid. 

There is an old song to the tune of Kelvin Grove still 
remembered by those who frequented Fordell Ball, and the 
Chorus went as follows: — 

Are you gaun to Fordell Ball, bonnie lassie oh? 
Are you gaun to Fordell Ball, bonnie lassie oh? 
If you gaun to Fordell Ball, I will dress you like a doll, 
Wull you gaun to Fordell Ball, bonnie dearie oh? 

The last line of the chorus was generally changed to in- 
clude a young lady's name instead of " bonnie dearie," and 
among names remembered to this day are Annie Daly, Martha 
Beveridge, Jeannie or Janet Livingstone. 

Reading between the lines of that song one can under- 
stand the method of invitation to the dance, which was 
generally by word of mouth by the young man to a girl friend 
several weeks before the night of the ball. A young miner 
generally brought his sweetheart, but a young man not so 
suited had to make his own selection and to get one of the 
popular young ladies he had to ask early. 

As the Fordell Ball was not strictly a partner dance but 
more of a village festival, young ladies not honoured with a 
formal approach for partnership that night used to go in 
small numbers, in a manner unattached. Young men were 
there, too, in numbers, who were also unattached and they 
were saved the expense of a pair of dancing shoes — the 
recognised present by a young man to his partner for the 
night. 

Of the ladies who went to the ball a few were employed 
in linen factories in Dunfermline, and they travelled to their 
work from Crossgates Station in a special factory train in 
the morning, returning in the evening. 

The largest number of young women were pithead girls 



26 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

for, after all, it is a miners' holiday, and time of rejoicing 
and thankfulness. 

The ball was always a great success. It was one great 
happy family, and with jigs, reels, waltzes, lancers, quadrilles, 
polkas, " Flowers of Edinburgh," haymakers, etc., the time 
sped on only too quickly. The dance was held in the middle 
of July, and some young men had reached their third collar 
before the end was in sight. The recognised time for stopping 
was six o'clock, but often the fiddlers were busy as late as 
eight o'clock. 

The Fordell Ball has been but a memory for many years 
now, but to-day many a one looks back with fond regret and 
with loving remembrance to the pleasant nights spent at this 
dance. 

The famous song, " After the Ball," with its suggestion of 
broken hearts and shattered romance, could not have been 
written about the Fordell Ball, for the scenes, after the dancing 
was finished, were always ones of gaiety and signs of deep- 
rooted friendship. 



CHAPTER VII. 

The Paraud Sports 

ALL had departed from the ballroom in time for 
breakfast, but there was no thought of bed that day 
for the revellers, for already the younger element of the fam- 
ily were up and dressed, their one thought being how they 
were going to fare at the Sports of the " Paraud," which had 
entered upon their second day. 

That day was specially set aside for the older folk and 
the children. With one accord they made for The Fannies 
where the sports were to be held. These sports, which were 
made up principally of races for boys and girls, young women, 
old men and women, always took place there. All the children 
of the village were there and all were eager to run a race 
of some sort. Whenever a certain number of children of a 
certain age were collected together, a race took place. The 
winners received coppers in prizes from a large bag and then 
another race was made up. 

When races galore had been run off and as many consol- 
ation events had been added, until such time as no child 
seemed to be without a prize, the young women, who had 
been gathered together in groups in the background, would 
come forward for their turn. This was a sign for encouraging 
remarks from the young men in the vicinity, but they did not 
seem to bother the competitors who seemed to be more inter- 
ested in what start certain competitors were to get. A taller 
one would remark that a certain other competitor might no' 
be very tall but she was wee and soople and cood fairly rin. 
One thing was certain and that was that each one was a trier 
until she saw the race was hopeless, and she would resign 
quite gracefully with a smile and a word of encouragement 
from the young men that " she cood try next year when she 
would be a year aulder." Then the old women came into their 
own. With their skirts tied up to their waists they too were 
real triers and ran as fast as their strength and their breath 
would allow them. They did not get money prizes, but the 
reward for their bravery and speed generally took the form of 
parcels of sugar and tea. 

The old men races always provided laughter, especially 



28 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

the race for the oldest class, a race which had been discussed 
shortly after the last paraud and would be the subject of 
discussion until the next paraud. I can visualise with the aid 
of memory, a very short man getting a start from a tall man, 
amidst protestation from the taller competitor, who stood 
with one hand on the head of the smaller one, the time he 
was trying to impress the handicapper how guid the wee 
man was. The ' David ' of the race, however, got his start 
all right but it did not get him the prize for the much taller 
competitor passed him at half track, when he seemed to step 
over him as he passed. This started the discussion of what 
happened the previous year when the smaller man used to 
state afterwards and won by pure science. When asked 
to explain the part that science played in the race, he used 
to say that he was running that weel that he had to gie the 
tall man a start. He sune got up to him, but the big man 
swung his airms like flails and he cudna get past. 

" But I sorted him," he said. 

" H'oo? " was the inevitable question. 

" I ran throo atween his legs." 

As far as the prize was concerned, however, it did not 
matter who won. The prizes were always in liquid shape, 
bottles of whisky in sizes graded to suit the prizes. Not only 
did the prize-winners go to collect the prizes, but they all 
went and very often all the competitors went to a convenient 
place not too far away to see " what kind o' stuff the Com- 
mittee had got ' the ' year." 

There is one word in the Fordell dialect I could never 
understand and that was the word " the " when it was used 
in the place of " this " as seen in the previous sentence. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Spirit of the prizes 

VERY often, in fact on nearly every occasion, the 
competitors all belonged to a number of " cronies " 
and one would say by way of invitation " Come on up by. 
There's naebidy in and we'll hae quietness seein' the auld 
wife and the bairns are at the sports." 

When the prospective host has given the assurance that 
he had as many " glesses as gaun roond," they all marched 
off with their prizes, special care being taken that the prizes 
do not come to any misfortune on the road. A daughter, who 
has successfully thrown off the effects of the " ball " the 
previous night, is at home tidying up but she is not too en- 
thusiastic in her reception of her father's guests. She starts 
off, " Oh, it's you and a' your cronies. It's a fine time to 
come when ye ken my mither's no in." 

" 'Deed lassie," says the youngest of the old men, " dinna 
fash yersel aboot us. We'll be easy to pit up wi'. We're no' 
seekin' tea; a' we want is a pickle glesses an' maybe a joog 
o' water." 

"So that's it. I see it noo, you've been runnin' the auld 
men's race and you hiv the prizes there. I maun hae been 
dovey no' tae hae kent that afore noo. Weel, f ether, if it's 
glesses you're efter, I dinna ken whaur you are gaun tae get 
them. You'll mind fine you folk broke gey near a' the glesses 
we had in the hoose last paraud and, mair than that, you've 
brocht it tae my mind you didna buy new yins for them as 
you a' faithfully promised. There's only twa I ken o' in the 
hoose and they are the yins my mitber brocht frae the ex- 
hibition. If you brak them you'll ne'er hear the end o' my 
mither's tongue. I'm shair I'm daft to lippen them wi' you. 
The rest o' you will need to tak cups." 

With this she departs and soon returns with the exhibition 
glasses and three cups. 

"I suppose you would be makin' a fule o' yirsel the 
day again rinnin' at The Pannies in the auld men's race. It's 
a guid job my mither is no here to hear aboot it or wisna 
there to see you. She would be black affrontit." 

This statement was received with loud laughter by all. 



30 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

" Wed, and what are you laughin' at? I dinna see ony- 
thing funny at a lot o' auld fules runnin' in their stockin' 
soles and makin' general exhibitions o' themsels. Forbye, I 
ken fine, and I never saw you, that you would a' hae your 
jeckets aff and there's ma fether's dean shirt lyin' oan the 
bed, and he wis telt a' the mornin' tae be shair an' pit it oan 
afore he gaed tae the paraud sports." 

" Wed the last we saw o' yir mithir was when she was 
sprauchlin' on the grund claimin' that she was first in her 
race and it was her that broke the cotton week." 

" What dae you say? Do you no' think shame o' yersel, 
fcther, allooin' ma mither tae dae ony sic thing as run a race 
and her wi' they seeatic pains a' week? " 

"I wudna bother ower muckle aboot that gin I were you, 
Kate. If yir mither hisnae got the pun o' tea she has the 
second prize onywey and, mair than that, I saw she cam' in 
a guid lot in front o' the wife next door, and that'll mak' her 
forget her seeatic pains for a wee while." 

This must have brought about some pacification to Kate 
for, turning round, she said: 

" A' richt, fether, that's as muckle as I can dae tae redd up 
the noo. There's the glesses and the cups and there's the cork- 
screw. I'm awa' tae the toon but mind you, when I come back 
and things are no' richt, I'll promise you a' somethin' . . . ." 

" Dinna promise ower muckle, Kate," said Wull, " but 
see and enjoy yirsel. Dinna keep Tarn oot ower late. He was 
tellin' me he is to be on the pumps at the William the morn's 
mornin' and ye ken that means a hauf-five rise." 

After a last look at the mirror and " You're lookin' rale 
braw the nicht " from Jimmy in the corner, she turned round 
with her hand on the handle of the door and said very delib- 
erately: " If ony o' you yins bother ma mither aboot her 
fa'in', wed, look oot." 

Before any reply could be made, Kate was gone and the 
old cronies at once settled down to enjoy themselves with 
their bottle and have a quiet crack. 

There was silence for a while after the door was closed 
until the host quietly drew the cork and soon was measuring 
out each man's first share of the prize. The five glasses and 
cups were then held up, after each one has waved aside the 
water jug, and Wull said, " Wed weel, here's tae the next 
year's paraud." 

" Hear, hear," said the others. That was all before they 
were testing the merits of the contents that came from a black 
bottle that originally was intended to hold another brand. 



SPIRIT OF THE PRIZES 31 

" Here," said Tam, " what name is on that bottle. Does it 
say Glen Devon? " 

" It canna be that," said Wull, " Glen Devon is a water 
works." 

" Fine I ken that, but maybe it wud be mair appropriate 
to ca' it Cullaloe. That's Burnteeland waterworks." 

" Eh, luddie, the Burnteeland folk ne'er put a' that water 
intilt. That's been the Paraud Committee makin' up ither 
prizes for the year. They'll hae tae gie the Band Committee 
a bigger fee the year as they are needin' anither new skin 
for the big drum." 

" I see it's gettin' gey sair patched," said Jimmy, " and 
they canna jist gaun back tae the big hoose askin' for anither 
skin for the drum, withoot haein' a better excaise than the 
yin they made up last time." 



CHAPTER IX. 



The Markinch cabbage, the 
cabbage pat and Jimmy's big tattie 



>-t-i 

I HE talk touched many topics before it finally centred 
JL on the coming For dell Flower Show and the merits 
or demerits of the different gardens. Wull joined in with, " I 
see you've got some fine phloxes the year." 

"Aye, they'll tak' some batin' this time, Wull. I just 
thocht you went ben the hoose to get a guid look o' them 
as weel as the blue violas you've haen sic a notion o'." 

" Weel, luddie," said Jock, " if somebody's eddication had 
been as guid as kennin' a' aboot flooers, you wud a' haen a 
strong rival the year wi' your phloxes and your dahlias." 

" Hoos that? " said Wull. 

" Weel, I just happen tae ken that Wull was wantin' tae 
send for some guid yins. He got the names o' them a' richt 
that the gairdener gied him but he cudna spell dahlias or 
antirrhiniums and neither him nor his auld wife was ony 
further forrit efter raikin' the hoose upside doon tae try an' 
get hud o' a catalogue that Wull pit by the year afore." 

Wull strongly denied this. It was marigolds he was efter, 
he said, and he didna ken whether there were two " r's " or 
one. Forbye, he had as guid dahlias as onybody in Fordell 
and he never got them frae " Dirthill " either, like some folk 
he kent. " Aye, and just ae nicht afore the show at that." 

Jock saw trouble arising so he broke in wivh " I see a 
man in Markinch has an awfu' big cabbage." 

" Fordell can grow as big a cabbage as ever grew in 
Markinch," said Wull. " I'll back my cabbage against ony 
Markinch cabbage. Markinch whiskey may swall a man's 
heid, but it'll no' swall the heid o' a cabbage." 

" That's naethin'. A big cabbage is neither here nor there. 
I was up at the Grossgate foondry the ither day and Maister 
Wilson was makin' a big washin' pat up there, an oot bye 
job, it was that big. You and a big cabbage! This job wud 
gie wark tae three men for a week ony way." 

" But this cabbage," said Jock, not to be outspoken, " was 





Rev. John Clark 



Robbie Hardie 

who played the big drum 

in Fordell Band 







AAv nvtA Af V c C-. 



THE MARKINCH CABBAGE 33 

that big that it'll tak' a ferm horse and cairt tae tak' it tae 
the floor show." 

" Weel, what aboot that? You will see this pat for yirsels 
as it has been ordered to bile your Markinch cabbage in efter 
the show is ower." 

For a while the quartette laughed at Jock's expense, but 
it did not disturb him, and with a " Weel, that deserves 
anither dram," the black bottle was brought into service and 
this time it was emptied. 

" Weel, here's tae Jock's Markinch cabbage," said Wull. 

" It was a thumper," said another, and Pete added quietly, 
" I can see anither thumper comin'." 

Jimmy disregarded the remarks and proceeded with the 
story he was itching to tell. 

" My grannie yist tae bide awa' in the country, and ae 
day she had a ca' frae a man wha yist tae ken my grand- 
farther awa' in foreign pairts," he began. " My grannie lat 
oot that she had to depend on her gairden to keep the hoose 
the gither, and afore he left he said that ae time my grand- 
father had did him a guid turn and as a sort of peyin' back, 
he promised he would send her a kind of manure that wud 
mak' her vegetables grow to a fell size. 

" We got a postcaird frae the railway company tellin' us 
tae gang for a bag lyin' at the station. It wasna a big poke — 
aboot fourteen pun or sae — and when I took it tae the 
grannie's and opened it oot, I saw it was white mealy stuff, 
somethin' between washin' soda and saut. 

" My grannie went tae the dresser tae get the wee bit 
paper the man had left wi' the instructions on hoo the stuff 
should be yaised, but losh me, she had lost it and, waur still, 
she cudna mind what the words were he telt her aboot what 
tae dae with the stuff. 

" Weel, when the time came to plant the gairden we were 
in a fix what tae dae and hoo tae apply it. We were feared 
we might spile the hale gairden if it was owre strong, so tae 
mak' shair wark we wadna dae ower muckle wrang, I sug- 
gested that for the time bein' we wud pit some roon a seed 
tattie and if it was a' richt we wud pit mair roon the cabbage 
and ither things as they were growin'. 

" It was jist at that time I got word tae gaun throo tae 
the wast to drive a stane mine through a hill. At least I was 
tae bide there as lang as learn ithers there wha werna up 
tae the kind o' wark on hoo it was dune. I was away for 
a month or twa and by the time I got back I had forgotten 
a' aboot the tattie until I went to see my grannie, 
c 



34 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

"I gaed tae her hoose and she wasna in, but there she 
was in her gairden starin' at the tattie shaw. It was six feet 
high and the ground was a' crackin' roond aboot it. I was 
jist as dumbfoonert as she was and we decided, as it was still 
in flooer, tae let it alane for a while. This was jist afore the 
Simmer holidays and I gaed awa' tae spend them wi' an 
uncle in the Hielands. The pits werena gaun ower weel at 
the time and my uncle, wha was a fermer, asked me tae bide 
a week or twa tae help him wi' his hervest. 

" The first thing I did when I came back was tae rin 
doon tae my grannie's. But when I got there it was vexing. 
There she was greetin' in the gairden and a' that was left was 
a muckle big hole like a faun-in pit shank and tattie shaws 
a' ower the place. 

" I didna ken what tae dae, but I was shair I wud get tae 
the end o' that tattie tae ken whaur it went. I searched high 
and low. I telt the police, but they were bate ana! Then ae 
nicht, just in the mirk, I was gaein the grannie's dug a walk 
when we wandered efter a rabbit into the middle o' a wud 
and we cam' across an auld quarry. In that quarry a tink and 
his family were bidin', but there was somethin' aufu' queer 
aboot his hoose. Then a' at ' yince ' — (the cronies were too 
enthralled to check him for saying ' yince ' instead of ' aince ') 
I saw his hoose was a muckle tattie howked oot, wi' sugar 
bags for a door, aye, even to the lum reekin." 

Jimmy continued that he made the tink confess that he 
had lifted the tattie ae dark nicht but he pleaded for the 
sake o' his wife and bairns no' tae tell the police. 

" Gies your glesses," said Tarn, " the second prize has got 
tae be disposed o' yet. Jist divide the hauf bottle in five. We 
need a gey stiff gless tae swally that thumper o' Jimmie's." 

Soon all the company were standing and talking nearly 
all at one time but the general agreement arrived at was that 
that day's sports were even better than last year and they 
were the best before that time. That opinion was accepted 
by a short silence which annoyed Jimmy. He did not like 
his story disposed of that way. He would have liked an argu- 
ment but they remained speechless. This story had been too 
much for them and at last, to break the uncomfortable silence, 
he changed the subject by saying quietly, " I dinna think they 
young lads are rinnin' as hard as they did when I was a 
callan. I min' whan I was in America . . ." He got no further 
for Wull said firmly, " Look here, Jimmy, the whisky is a' 
dune and we canna staund ony mair o' yir stories withoot it, 
and it'll need tae be less wattered than the stuff the nicht, so 



THE MARKINCH CABBAGE 35 

we'll jist wait for anither nicht tae hear aboot yir exploits in 
America and hoo you broke a' the records there. You canna 
hae been lang in America but I'm beginnin' tae think that 
it was lang enough tae learn the Yankees hoo tae brag aboot 
the great things they can dae there. If that's richt we maun 
admit you made a grand job o't." "Here's tae next year's 
Paraud," said Wull, and the cronies were soon making for 
their respective homes, having spent a very enjoyable day, 
but with the tattie story still uppermost in their mind. 



CHAPTER X. 

The Brass Band 

ONE of Fordell's foremost institutions in bygone 
days was the Brass Band, but I have been unable 
to discover when it first began to function. According to my 
old friend, Eck Penman, there was first of all a flute band, 
but this was merely the foreunner of the Brass Band, destined 
to become one of the most famous in the county of Fife. 

One of tlie oldest members of the band is Davie Philip. 
I recall Davie confiding in me that he was not born in Fordell 
but at Cowdenbeath, and to prove his statement he showed 
me his birth certificate, which bore out he was born at Dyke- 
neuk on the 9th October, 1 862. I was puzzled to know where 
Dykeneuk was at Cowdenbeath, for I pride myself that I 
know every place in the district by name. Davie informed 
me that Dykeneuk was the proper name of two houses, de- 
molished recently, which stood at the end of Foulford Road 
with the junction of Old Perth Road. 

" But that was called Crosskeys," I said. 

" Deed aye, laddie, but when I was born it was ca'd 
Dykeneuk." 

Davie told me that he was very young indeed when he 
went with his father and mother to the farm of Bankhead 
at Otterson, near Aberdour, and later came to reside in the 
Moss Row at Fordell. Davie first saw Fordell Band at the 
Paraud when he was seven years of age, and he never lost 
touch with the band after this. He was thirteen years of age 
when he got his instrument, and right proud he was. 

At that time the conductor was " Twinny Rob " Beveridge, 
who was also the cornet player of the band. Nowadays, a 
full brass band consists of twenty players, twenty-four being 
the regulation number for contest work, but with Fordell 
Band twelve players made a big band and twenty-four " was 
somethin' oot o' the ordinar." 

The players were all notable musicians and in most in- 
stances were relations. As stated, " Twinny Rob " was the 
solo cornet player and conductor. The first conductor Davie 
remembers was Willie Woods, an ex-soldier and well-known 
brass band conductor, who took a great interest in the Fordell 



THE BRASS BAND 37 

I Sand. Not only was he a conductor but he wrote brass band 
music. 

Mr Woods had a son in the band, Willie Woods, a cornet 
player, who could not read a word of music, yet he was a 
marvellous player. All he required was to hear a piece played 
once and he could play it right away. 

Another comet player was Archie Thomson, whose father 
80 years ago played the G trombone. Willie Sharp played a 
trombone. He was a member of a well-known musical family 
and his son, Robert Sharp, later residing in Crossgates, was 
Parish Clerk at Aberdour. Then there were the Gibbs; 
Geordie played the horn, Dick the B flat to bombardon, and 
Frank the cornet. The Gibbs were the best known of Fordell 
families, especially Geordie, who resided for many years 
" ower the brig " at Cowdenbeath, a district that includes 
any place beyond the railway bridge at the Old Station. In 
that quarter many of his descendents still reside. Frank Gibb, 
who also removed to Cowdenbeath, resided in East Park 
Street. He was for several years a member of Cowdenbeath 
Town Council, filling the position for a term as Hon. 
Treasurer of the Burgh. 

Peter was a big drummer, a position also held by Archie 
Brown. Robert Hutton, scarcely known by any other name 
than " Robbie Hardie," was side drummer at that time until 
he got his heart's desire — the big drum. It always struck me 
as peculiar to see a side drummer in a brass band, but Davie 
Philip assured me that this was quite in order at the time. 

Then we must not forget the Hopes, another Fordell 
family name. There were several families of Hope who are 
now scattered in the district and may be found in Mossgreen, 
Cowdenbeath, Crossgates, and even in " foreign " places like 
Dunfermline. Wull Hope played the euphonium and Tarn the 
tenor trombone. 

There was always a suspicion among certain people that 
the Hopes were not real Fordell natives but that they origin- 
ally belonged to Springhill, at Crossgates, beyond the line of 
demarcation that marked the Fordell boundary. 

The Hopes and their descendants maintain that was not 
true and that they were originally Fordell inhabitants, as 
much Fordell in their " bluid " as the " Berridges," aye, or 
the Penmans either. " Forbye," they would say, " whaur did 
the Berridges come frae onywey but Dirthill? " 

These were some of the arguments used at the pay office 
on Saturday night, as the Fordell Store, or at the " College," 
when big Tam Dryburgh would say " he could fecht all the 



38 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

Hopes, Berridges and Penmans ane efter the ither wi' ae hand 
tied ahint his back." But anyone from outside suggesting that 
either the Hopes, Philips, McArthurs, Berridges, or Penmans, 
were not originally natives of Fordell would have to deal with 
a united front. 

In the band there was one Beveridge eighty years ago 
besides " Twinny Rob " and he was " Tom Bow," who also 
played the cornet. His name was Thomas Beveridge, but for 
the sake of identification amongst the clan of " Berridges " 
he got an extra name — not a middle name, but one added — 
Tarn Beveridge and then Bow as an afterthought, the same 
as Beveridge (Grieve). 

Davie Philip was a bandsman for thirty years. This was 
not a record, for other players were in the band for that 
length of time and in some instances longer. Willie Woods 
was longer in the band that that, and if a Hope suggested he 
was playing flat, he would retort that he could not be flat as 
he had played in Fordell Band for ower thirty years and 
longer than onybody else, Hopes and a', thus falling into the 
trap laid for him to start a " freendly row." 



CHAPTER XI. 

Well known players 

CONTINUING his reminiscences, Davie said that 
Willie Duncan also played a bombardon and later 
was a well-known cornet player. Tam Dobbie was a member 
as well. That introduces the question of strangers in the band. 

At one time Donibristle had a brass band. Of course it 
never compared with Fordell Band. According to Tam Dry- 
burgh " Fordell Band could blaw Dirthill Band ootside in." 
The Donibristle Band fell on evil days and went out of 
existence. Even Fordell folk, however, would admit that there 
was an anterrin player in the band " guid enough tae tak' 
his place alangside Fordell Band." One was Robert Seath, 
who stayed in Earl's Row, and was for many years a shop- 
keeper in the village o£ Donibristle and it was agreed to 
honour him by allowing him to play for Fordell Band. That 
was the real reason the Fordell folk gave their consent to 
allow Seath in the band, but if anyone wanted a first-class 
row all he had to say was that they took him to spite Cross- 
gates. 

The same reason was given by outside bands for Fordell 
Band taking Tam Dobbie, a cornet player from Lochore, 
who, in the days before buses or even bicycles, used to walk 
from Lochore at least twice a week to attend practice. Later 
Dobbie joined Bo'ness Band and one day he met him at 
Kinross at the July Fair in charge of the Bo'ness Band. 

While talking to his old bandmate, be took occasion to 
admire his band trousers and found that they were ordinary 
black moleskins with a moveable stripe down the side. This 
struck me, he said, as a very convenient experiment as, with 
the stripes off, the trousers made good working garments. 

He had a great admiration for two men in Fordell Band 
— Twinny Beveridge, the first man he knew who could triple- 
tongue the cornet, and Tam Dobbie, who later went to Leven, 
who also could perform, what seemed to him, this difficult 
execution on the instrument. 

In the Laird of Fordell the brass band had always a good 
friend, and the gift of an instrument to replace an old one 



40 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

was always a consideration. One Laird, George Henderson, 
once gave them two instruments — a bombardon and a 
euphonium. Then they had a hall free and were supplied 
with light, the paraffin coming from the Company's stores at 
the workshops. 

They had practices on Monday and Wednesday of each 
week and on Saturday afternoons, when not engaged, they 
had a march out. The treasurer was always there on Satur- 
day afternoon with his black book, for each member of the 
band had to pay his shilling every pay day. 

" I dinna ken hoo some o' us managed that shilling wi' 
wages at three bob a day, but we just had tae pey it an' that 
was a' aboot it. It's surprisin' whit ye can dae withoot if you 
hivna the siller tae get it," he said, thinking of the past when 
he and the other members of his family had " tae dae with- 
oot " for the sake of the band. 

" Our conductors never cost us very much," he added. 
" Willie Woods used tae write his ain music, and Twinny 
Rob was sae eager in his love o' the band that he never 
thocht o' payment." 

Another source of revenue was their many engagements. 
" I have seen us," said Davie, " workin' only three days a 
fortnicht and there was nae five day week and paid for six 
shifts. We had a wheen paid engagements, and sometimes 
we played and a' we got was a pie an' a pint. It seemed a' 
games committees wanted Fordell Band an' we yist tae hae 
lang trails. I've seen us at Leslie Games on Thursday, Mark- 
inch Games on Friday, an' at the Paper Mills alang there on 
the Seturday. 

" We were aye engaged for the Miners' Gala an' went wi' 
Fordell folk, except aince, when they hadna the siller tae pey 
us, and we went a' the same. We got an engagement to mairch 
alang wi' Cowdenbeath miners, hooever, an' we were weel 
aff that day for we got nine shillings a man. That was lang 
afore Cowdenbeath had a band o' their ain. Ither games we 
attended were Ha'beath, Milnathort, July Fair at Kinross, 
Pitlessie and Ceres." 

" How did you manage to get to those far away places 
like Ceres? " I asked. 

"We went in brakes and waggonettes," Davie replied, 
" an' we aye got name a' richt. Never the same day, of course, 
but we aye got hame somehoo. We gaed to Guar'bridge 
aince and had tae pey £4 for brakes. An' we didna get awa' 
efter the games were feenished. No, the committee started us 
tae play reels an' they collected the pennies— ye ken, reels wi' 



WELL KNOWN PLAYERS 41 

a penny from ilka dancer. We got hame a' richt — weel on i' 
the next day. 

" I mind aince o' the band gaun tae the Forth Brig when 
it was gettin' built. The workers there had sports o' their ain 
an' I tell you they were guid sports. They had beer in big 
bath tubs an' each man had jist to gaun forrit an' help hissel 
wi' a joog. 

" Wha gaed us the brakes? Weel, there was Philip, Dun- 
fermline — ye ken him that ran the bus twice a day frae 
Dunfermline tae Lochgeliy. Ye cud set your watch by the 
time Chairlie, the driver, passed through Crossgates in the 
mornin'. Then auld Eck Campbell, o' Cowdenbeath, used tae 
gie us a brake gey often, an' sometimes he forgot to ask 
peyment. Then if we were stuck Erchie Hodge, o' Cowden- 
beath, had twa waggonettes, an' I dinna ken hoo we peyed 
him, we maist likely never. 

" We yist tae mairch roon' the raws on Saturday nicht 
an' I feenished up at the Fordell Store. Jimmy Hamilton had 
the Store whan I mind o't first, and when playin' he yist 
tae gie us oor first dram free. Syne we gied a reel or twa 
in front o' the Store an' when we felt dry we jist gaed back 
far anither yin. We didna chairge the pennies on they nichts 
but I can tell ye they cam' frae a' awer tae thae reels. 

" Us young yins that drank the lemonade aye looked 
forrit tae thae nichts at Fordell Store. Efter the playin' 
stopped till Jimmy Hamilton closed his shop at eleeven 
o'clock we didna gang straucht hame for the lassies used tae 
tak' tae the band lads." 

" How did Fordell Band get the name of the Herring 
Band? " I enquired. 

" That happened afore I was in the Band," said Davie, 
" so it must hae been a lang time ago. The way it happened, 
as far as I was telt, was ae nicht the Band were comin' in 
frae some ayont Cowdenbeath late at nicht, and some o' 
them got a lift frae a herrin' cadger in his cairt. There hap- 
pened tae be a box o' herrin' in the cairt and the band chaps 
helped themselves tae the herrin' and hid them in the bells 
o' their instruments. Ye can s&e hoo the chaps wi' the big 
instruments got the maist herrin' but it took a lang time tae 
get the stink o' the herrin' awa. 

" I suppose, tae, ye'll hae heerd o' the Band bein' ca'd 
the ' Drunken Sixteen.' Weel ye can tak' it frae me they didna 
deserve that name. I dinna mind o' seein' ony player ower 
drunk tae play, an' mair than that, they thocht ower muckle 
o' their instruments tae get ower fu' so that they cudna tak' 



42 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

care o' them. Giein' them that name looks like a Crossgates 
or a Kelty Band trick for, mind ye, bandsmen werena ower 
parteecular whit they said aboot ither bands, but they were 
the best o' freens for a' that." 



CHAPTER XII. 

The Flooer Show 

FORDELL has always been well known for its floral 
beauty. Much of this fame is due to the great interest 
taken in the gardens by the Lairds of Fordell Castle who 
have been from generation to generation proprietors of the 
colliery and the lands of Fordell. 

The Lairds of Fordell were responsible for the prizes for 
the best-kept gardens, introducing a competition that brought 
into existence a strong rivalry, no doubt friendly, but a rivalry 
that could not be keener. As near as I can remember, there 
were about forty prizes in all and these prizes were respon- 
sible for such garden displays that large numbers of visitors 
from Crossgates, Donibristle and Cowdenbeath came to view 
them on the Sunday following the judging. 

With very few exceptions, all the gardens were entered 
for competition and in such rows as Coles Terrace, Douglas 
Cottages and the houses on the other side of the road that 
led to Aberdour there were no such exceptions. They gener- 
ally were where the facilities did not allow a well-kept garden. 

I will try and picture Coles Terrace over sixty years ago. 
In the end house was David Muir, whose descendants are to 
be found all over West Fife. He nearly always won first prize 
for his garden, helped to a larged extent by his son, Wattie 
Muir, who became a newsagent in Bowhill. Next to Davie 
Muir came John McArthur, another prominent prize-winner, 
and then, in order, John Scott, Jamie Keddie, James Rolland, 
Walter Muir, Thomas Beveridge and, lastly, Duncan McKay, 
all keen competitors for the garden prizes. 

Davie Muir, as I have stated, nearly always won the first 
prize, but close on his heels came Michael Johnstone, in 
Douglas Cottages, and Mrs. Stenhouse the blacksmith's wife, 
in the first house past Lovers' Lone. Nancy was never far 
down the prize-list. 

The day of the judging of the gardens was a red letter 
day in Fordell and the judges were closely watched, in some 
cases quite openly, but, in a large number of cases, from 
behind blinds and pot plants which decorated the front room 
or the " ben " of the houses. The judges were Mr Ramsay 



44 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

of Fordell Castle; the head gardener of Dhuloch, Inverkeith- 
ing; and Mr William Cook of Donibristle. It was always a 
fortnight before the flower show, which was always early 
in September. 

Willie Cook was a man one could not easily forget — very 
tall, about six feet, but he was best known for his long red 
beard. An authority on everything that pertained to a garden, 
he was well known in the whole of West Fife. A miner by 
occupation, he had no thought or time for anything else after 
his work but gardening, and in nearly every flower show in 
West Fife, and sometimes beyond it, Willie was to be seen 
either judging or giving advice — always free. His own garden 
in Donibristle was so large that it surprised one to know how 
he could possibly find time to do anything else in his spare 
time. 

The three judges always arrived late in the afternoon and, 
from a place of vantage where they could not be seen, inter- 
ested family groups would gather and carefully watch them 
and try to get an indication of how they were impressed with 
the different gardens. 

The presentation of the prizes was a memorable night in 
the village. In the meantime, the prize-winners had goods to 
the value of the prizes won and they were placed in the Old 
School. There were no motor cars in these days, but the 
private railway coach of Fordell House was brought into 
use. This coach, not a Pullman car by any means, was at- 
tached to the colliery engine, and the party, including Lady 
Henderson, was brought to the village and, under the chair- 
manship of Mr Morton, the prizes were presented by her 
Ladyship. 

The prizes were of all kinds. Davie Muir got his easy 
chair and special congratulations on being the first prize- 
winner. The others got their awards in turn. They ranged 
from standing paraffin lamps and linen to boring graith and 
drills. Lady Henderson had words of praise and encourage- 
ment for each one and a special word to Nancy for continuing 
among the leading prize-winners for keeping her garden so 
attractive. 

Immediately the judging of the gardens took place, every 
intending competitor set his mind on the flower show. Show 
boxes, frames and all the different contrivances for showing 
flowers, etc., were unearthed. The committee arranged with 
the colliery manager to get wood for the platforms and the 
services of the colliery joiner to fix them up. 

Competitors selected the different flowers and vegetables 



THE FLOOER SHOW 45 

they intended to compete with, and not only did they nurse 
them with all the different ways of bringing them to their 
best, but they set a night and day guard on them. 

Despite careful vigilance, however, many prized flowers 
and vegetables disappeared just previous to the show, and 
a competitor had to be very sure of his convictions before he 
could tell the committee that a flower or turnip on the stand 
was his property, but had mysteriously disappeared from his 
garden a night or two before. 

I recall one occasion when a well-known competitor had 
a beautiful red or pickle cabbage which he thought should 
lift the prize in this class. He was afraid, however, that it 
looked too tempting and as he and his sons were both on the 
night shift he conceived the plan of inserting a safety pin in 
the inner leaves of the cabbage. Coming home from work 
one morning he found his cabbage had gone. 

On the morning of the show he paid particular attention 
to the red cabbage entered for competition; he recognised 
his own when he saw it, and proved its identity beyond doubt 
when he found the pin. 

One of his sons told me he took the law into his own 
hands and placed the cabbage below the stand, which meant 
that it had been withdrawn from competition. Not long after- 
wards another competitor came on the scene. 

" Where is my red cabbage? " he asked. 

" You mean oor red cabbage? " 

" No, I mean the one I sent in." 

" I ken. The wan we grew an' the wan you sent in is the 
same cabbage. There it is alow the stand, an' it's gaun tae 
bide there." 

There was such determination in this latter statement that 
the matter ended there and the cabbage was not shown. 

" Why did you not report him to the committee? " I 
asked. 

" Ah, weel, the kennin' that he was fund oot an' that I 
had this daur ower him, I thocht pit him aboot sair enough," 
was the reply. " Forbye, what guid wud that dae tae the flooer 
show? Efter a', ye shud ken as weel as onybody that they 
tricks were mair deevilment than onything else. I'm awfu' 
gled that I copped him at it, no' for the sake o' the shillin' 
o' a first prize or the vailey o' the cabbage, but ye ken hoo 
I wud hae felt years efter tae hae the joke turned against 
me." 

The flower show was not confined to Fordell. Donibristle 
folk were allowed to compete. The otherwise concrete rule 



46 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

was not broken to oblige outsiders but to give the Fordell 
folk a chance to prove that they grew better vegetables and 
flowers than they could in Donibristle. It was a keen fight. 
On the one side, we had the Muirs, Johnstones, Beveridges, 
Penmans and Smarts from Fordell, out to beat the Harrow- 
ers, Beveridges (" Dirthill " Beveridges), Forresters, Peter 
Cook and the Robertsons from Donibristle. The rivalry did 
not end there, but was taken to the Donibristle show as well, 
and the show in Dunfermline or Cowdenbeath was regarded 
as the decider. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Fordell "Store 



55 



I CANNOT come across any person who can tell me the 
age of Fordell Store, but from the appearance of the 
building, of which the Store is a part, I venture to say that 
it is one of the oldest buildings in the village. Moss Row, 
now demolished, was probably the oldest. It was built to 
accommodate the miners who were employed in the pits in 
that locality. Then would follow the Old Square, a continu- 
ation of the Store buildings, also demolished, and in front, 
Cannon Row, which could boast of the only double storey 
building in Fordell, with the exception of the Store. The 
erection of these houses, or " miners' raws," brought about 
the existence of the Store. 

The only other buildings at that time would be the School 
and Schoolhouse, the Auld Raw, in rear of the present Coles 
Terrace, and two houses at the south end of Wemyss Square. 
With the exception of the School and the Schoolhouse the 
other houses are demolished. Since that time, Coles Terrace 
(1850), Monteith Terrace and Douglas Cottages were erected, 
and, in recent years, a few of the most modern of houses 
have been erected on and built near the site of the Lang Raw. 

There is no doubt that the Store buildings were erected 
by the proprietors of the Fordell Coal Company and if the 
Store was in existence in the early part of the nineteenth 
century it was one of the many such Stores owned by pro- 
prietors of collieries and other works all over the country 
where goods were exchanged for lines supplied to the work- 
men instead of wages and must therefore be one of few such 
buildings. 

My friend, Davie Philip, first remembers Fordell Store 
when it belonged to Jimmy Hamilton, and at that time it was 
a fully licensed public-house. From the size of the premises 
today it could not have been a very large public-house, but 
no doubt it was ample for the needs of the men in the 
village who sought its comforts. 

Its busiest time was, no doubt, on a Saturday when the 
Brass Band used to halt there, after marching round the 
" Raws," and play a programme of music. The programme 



48 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

was always interrupted after the iirst tune when the men of 
the Band accepted the invitation of Jimmy Hamilton to " hae 
a drink on me." After the first " roond " the rest of the re- 
freshments were always paid for, and no doubt Jimmy lost 
nothing by his hospitality in " stannin' his hand " on the first 
occasion. 

Jimmy Hamilton left the Store and commenced a public 
house at the Coaledge, always spoken of as " The College," 
on the Dunfermline-Kirkcaldy Road, just a short distance 
from Coles Terrace. Messrs. Fraser & Carmichael rented 
Fordell Store as a licensed grocer's, after Mr Anderson had 
had it for a while as a butcher's shop. Robert Borthwick 
(Robbie) was manager for Fraser & Carmichael for a time 
and then followed John Finlayson, to be succeeded by Jimmy 
Dick, now of D.C.I., at Dunfermline. 

Following Mr Dick came the well-known Fred Stiven 
who, during his long stay in Fordell, became very popular, 
but never popular enough to take away the designation of 
" incomer " even though he married " John Tamson's 
dochter." 

At the same time, Fordell folk never recognised John 
Tamson, or, as he was better known, Fiddler John, as a 
Fordell Wattie. John, they said, belonged to Crossgates, and 
they never forgave him for his adverse criticism of Fordell 
Band. They always said his opinions were the result of 
jealousy and the fact that his son played in Crossgates Band. 
They quote him as saying that " Crossgates Band withoot oor 
John or Jimmy is a noise like a cat pirlin' in a tanker " 
(tankard). 

However, Fred became very well-known in Fordell and 
knew the doings of the village to veriest detail. The source 
of his information was Fordell Store. He thus could tell when 
Twinny Berridge got a new " place " in the Lady Ann, when 
Wattie Muir got a new lot o' pansies better marked than 
Michael Johnstone's, when Willie Berridge got a new doo, 
Mrs Japp a new cat, or the exact date after the Foresters' 
ball that a well-known couple started to " gaun thegither." 

Fordell men did not like the idea of the taking away of 
the " sittin' doon " licence and they used to make the best of 
the disadvantage by buying the beer by the gallon or half- 
gallon at a time and drinking it on their " hunkers " at the 
shop door or at a convenient place not far away, the tumblers 
being supplied by the obliging Fred. 

Objections were made at the men drinking in this way 
and the result was that a police-sergeant came along one da}' 



^jj+r" 



■ \ 










.-» 



77z£ Coa ledge Tavern 




William Pit, last of the old Fordell Pits 



to 



r 



FORDELL "STORE" 49 

and gave out instructions that beer could only be supplied 
in bottles. Fred immediately obeyed the instructions to the 
letter, if not the spirit. He discovered that a "two-pound 
sweetie bottle " held exactly a pint of beer, and his customers, 
instead of getting their carrying out beer in a half-gallon or 
gallon measure, got it supplied in " sweetie bottles." 

If the law was not quite satisfied, the police instructions 
were carried out, and so was the beer. 

At the same time, there was a certain amount of pawky 
and ironical humour in drinking beer from a bottle labelled 
"Good Templar Drops." 

The Store was always the busiest place in the otherwise 
quiet village. This was especially so in the evenings and 
nights when the lights of the oil lamps in the windows used 
to bring round the youths of the " Raws." There the wives 
used to meet, both inside and outside, and there the village 
gossip used to be detailed and, in very many instances, added 
to. There the boys and girls used to play at all sorts of 
games, to be always quarrelled by Fred. To get their own 
back, they used to indulge in some sort of game meant to 
annoy him. For instance, one boy would get hold of another's 
bonnet and throw it into the shop, leaving the victim with 
the painful ordeal of going in for his cap or suffer the pen- 
alties of going home without it. 

Fred in later years used to say that I arranged to get my 
cap flung in so that it fell on a barrel of apples and, rushing 
for my cap, I used to take along with it at least one apple. 
I never could convince Fred that I could not do such a thing. 

He also told of how on one occasion he caught me and 
chastised me in the back shop. 

" Aye, an' yer faither came doon tae gie me a row for 
hittin' ye, but when I telt him the richt wey, you was a vexed 
laddie that yer faither kent onything aboot it." 

The Store took the place of the local newspaper, and when 
any bit of spicey news or news of any importance came in 
from the outside, one heard the expression on every side, 
" I'll need tae gaun tae the Store tae see if it's true." 

Attached to the Store building on the side next the work- 
shops and the Day Level Pit was a flag pole. The hoisting 
of the flag during the day was to celebrate a village event, 
but at night when that flag was sent up it was an intimation 
to the miners that, for some reason, either the want of wag- 
gons or a breakdown, that the " pit wasna workin' the morn." 

Despite all the pranks that were played, Fred cannot 
remember a time when this means of intimation that the pit 



50 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

would not be working was abused, even after a " congenial " 
night when a number of the miners would have relished a 
" long lie " rather than tramping to the Lady Ann, half-a-mile 
away, at " half-six " (the Fordell way of saying half -past five) 
in the morning. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The Fordell Watties 

WHO were the original Fordell families? I have 
been surprised during my inquiries to find that 
many of the families whom I thought were natives of Fordell 
were what they call " incomers." 

Michael Johnstone, a well-known man who, for over sixty 
years, took a prominent part in the doings of the village, 
was never accepted as a Fordell man. Maggie Beveridge, 
married to Thomas Beveridge (Grieve), also told me that she 
did not belong to Fordell. She first came to the village when 
she was married over fifty years ago and resided in the same 
house in Coles Terrace for close on half a century. " Deed, 
laddie," she said, " you better gaun tae some Fordell folk 
for your information. I dinna belong tae Fordell, forby I 
have only been here for fifty years." 

When one remembers that the miners of Fordell got com- 
plete emancipation from serfdom probably about 1799, after 
which they were not reckoned as part of the colliery and its 
plant, but had their freedom to go where they wanted, it 
makes it difficult to trace the families in Fordell at that period. 

The principal names are McArthur, Penman, Muir, Gibb, 
Hope and Smart, while there may have been a family of 
Japp. One of the last direct descendants of the Japp family 
was Hannah. She, like many of the young women of Fordell, 
in married life became a Beveridge. Mrs John Japp, a widow 
who passed away lately, the oldest of her generation alive, 
never considered herself a Fordell woman for, like Maggie 
Wilson, she came to Fordell when she was married to John 
Japp and was only there for approximately fifty years. Before 
she passed away she was the oldest generation of five gener- 
ations of the family all alive. 

The father of the family which took a great part in Fordell 
life was a Peter Penman, the most prominent member being 
Peter Penman, who resided at No. 1 Monteith Terrace. Mr 
and Mrs Penman had a large family, the eldest being Peter 
Penman, who was ninety-four years of age and resided at 
Brands Row, Crossgates. Like his father, he was Deacon of 
Fordell Paraud on many occasions. One of his sons — Alex. 



52 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

Penman — who resided at No. 1 Monteith Terrace, used to 
tell of how his mother used to work in No. 12 Pit, now dis- 
used and filled in. As all women were taken out of the pits 
in 1842, one can easily understand that the family can be 
safely stated to be a Fordell one. 

They were a long-lived family, Aggie Penman passing 
away a short time ago. Another member of the family was 
Phemie Penman, who also became a member of the great 
majority by marrying a Beveridge. 

Davie Philip, who played in Fordell Band for many years, 
whom I referred to before, was always classed as an 
" incomer " although he resided in the village for over sixty 
years. 

Davie was fourteen years of age and was working for a 
few years when one of the boilers at the William Pit exploded, 
killing the engineman, Andrew Baxter Arnott, great-grand- 
father of Mr A. Arnott, Cowdenbeath, and four of the pithead 
girls or " hill women," as they were called. One was Davie's 
sister, Isa Philip, another was Helen Cook, while the other 
two girls were named Harrower and Paterson. 

Mention of Davie Philip and his association with Fordell 
Band recalls another of these " tall " stories connected with 
that famous combination. 

The Band had been playing at Lammas Fair and was 
returning in the small hours of Sunday morning. Several 
members of the Band had imbibed rather freely, and when 
passing Mossgreen Church someone remembered a statement 
made at Crossgates that the kirk " wasna built stracht." 

The story goes that four bandsmen went to each of the 
corners which they thought gave the kirk a " laich " (low) 
side and started to raise the building. When they thought they 
had raised it high enough one shouted " lower " and they 
all let go. 

However, one of the heavier men was standing on the 
foot of a smaller man, who at once yelled out — " The hale 
lot o' you come ower here. You've let this end doon on my 
lit." 

The story continues that they all lifted and " slewed " the 
kirk to get his foot out, and now the kirk, besides being off 
the level, is also off the straight. 

After that diverting story let me return to Fordell's noted 
men. Among these must not be forgotten Wattie Muir. Wattie 
was of strong religious views and long before 1870, when the 
Mossgreen School was erected, was in charge of the Sunday 
School that met in the Reading Room in the Fordell Store 



THE FORDELL WATTIES 53 

buildings. He had the help of other voluntary teachers, in- 
cluding Miss Graham, daughter of the minister at Crossgates. 

Not only did Wattie Muir cater for the religious needs of 
the young but he held services on Sunday evening in the 
Reading Room for the older people, when the address was 
given by the ministers and evangelists both in the vicinity 
and from as far away as Edinburgh. 

The Reading Room also recalls the name of Michael 
Johnstone. Once a year there was a very important event in 
the village — the Reading Room Supper. The chairman, 
Michael Johnstone, always made the " boys," who included 
men both old and young, feel at home. The expression often 
heard today — " Weel, lads, I'll no' ca' you gentlemen as I 
ken you too weel," has been attributed to Michael one dinner 
night. 



CHAPTER XV. 

"Paddy" Clark and the "Berridges 



95 



^ n ^ 
I HERE were other outstanding characters in the 

JL village of whom mention should be made, among 

them John Japp, who always rode the white horse on the 

day of the Forester' Walk and was the " heid " man at the 

sports that followed, and the Rev. John Clark of Mossgreen 

Church. The minister was better known, and no less respected, 

by the name of " Paddy Clark," and did a great deal of good 

work in the village. 

Mr Clark always made his visitation a matter of special 
enjoyment. He liked nothing better than to get among older 
men and discuss current events and especially politics. 

I always remember one particular Saturday Mr Clark 
came into my father's house shortly after dinner time. My 
mother had to leave a little afterwards to go to Dunfermline 
for the week's provisions, but before she left, Mr Clark and 
my father, an ardent Home Ruler, had started on the pros 
and cons of Home Rule for Ireland, the work of William 
Ewart Gladstone. I was an interested listener, for the North 
Ireland brogue of Mr Clark sounded pleasant to me and, 
like my father, I was an admirer of Gladstone. 

Before leaving, my mother gave instructions not to let 
the fire out, to be sure and light the lamp when it got dark 
and be sure to draw the blinds. I left an hour later. 

The discussion and arguments waxed hot, and when my 
mother returned six hours later the two were in darkness, 
cowering round the last red ashes of the fire. Neither seemed 
to want to leave the scene of the interesting discussion long 
enough to go to the coal-house to keep the fire in. My father 
said in excuse, as he was the principal culprit, that he did 
not notice the fire going out, and Mr Clark said he enjoyed 
talking with the only light the glow of the dying embers. 

Mr Clark was in great demand as a lecturer. He gave 
lectures frequently in the Reading Room and went out to 
different places, including Cowdenbeath, Dunfermline, 
Crossgates, etc. He scarcely ever travelled in a train, and 
on many occasions I have seen him leave Cowdenbeath at 



" PADDY " CLARK AND THE " BERRIDGES " 55 

ten o'clock at night, at the conclusion of his lecture, to walk 
the three miles back to Mossgreen Manse. 

I must include in my list of FordelFs outstanding men 
the Beveridges. The truth is I do not know where to start. 
They were here, there and everywhere, and so many had 
the same name that the difficulty would be to be explicit 
enough to indicate the particular one to whom I was 
referring. 

The Beveridges belonged to Fordell, but some folk were 
wont to say that Fordell belonged to the Beveridges. On 
one occasion, there had been complaints against some of the 
Fordell inhabitants who had to report to the Laird of 
Fordell. When he asked their names all he got was 
" Beveridge," until he cried out, " Are they all Beveridges 
in Fordell? We will have to get a new clan introduced there, 
somebody with a name like McTacket." 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Schule days and the Dominie 

IN these days of advanced education, when every child 
is given the opportunity to be educated beyond the stage 
of the three R's, it is very difficult to understand the real posi- 
tion of higher education that faced Mr Currie. If there were 
bursaries, I never heard of them for the Fordell children, 
and, after the sixth standard, the next stage was Dunfermline 
High School. The expenses caused by sending a pupil to 
Dunfermline, providing school books (as this was long before 
the days of " free " books), was entirely beyond the means 
of the Fordell miner. The average wage of the miner at that 
time did not exceed a pound a week, which provided for 
only the bare necessities of life, but, despite this, Mr Currie 
succeeded in finding the ways and means of starting quite a 
few on the road for higher education. How he did it I could 
never understand, I could only guess. If my guessing was 
correct, it gave me a bigger problem, namely, to know how 
the then small salaries of headmasters could afford to help 
financially, and how he got the extra necessary to carry on 
the good work. Still, he did manage to get a few through the 
High School, and some the University, to become pro- 
fessional men, and some to " wag their pow in a pulpit." 
As can be imagined, these were only a few, but he was very 
proud of them. 

In those days, a boy or girl could leave school on leaving 
the fifth standard and the big majority did this through 
necessity. Miners almost invariably had large families and 
the boy or girl, on passing the fifth standard, had to go to 
work to eke out the family income. For the boys there was 
the coal mine and for the girls the pithead and, in some 
cases, the linen factories in Dunfermline. In both cases the 
wages were very small and they only provided what was 
necessary to keep the house going and nothing for luxuries. 
Even the temptation of a watch, by Lady Henderson, to 
every pupil who passed the sixth standard had to be turned 
down to get the benefit of a shilling a day (the wages paid 
to the boys and girls when they became part of the mining 
industry). The leaving school at this age was looked upon 



SCHULE DAYS AND THE DOMINIE 57 

as a natural stage in the lives of the Fordell boys and girls, 
just following on what their parents had done before them 
for generations. Other few exceptions were the boys and 
girls who had older brothers who were working and these 
formed the sixth standard pupils and, from these were taken 
the apprentice clerks and apprentice shopkeepers in such 
places as Crossgates, but the demand was so small that 
nearly all the boys and girls had no alternative to the work 
about the mines. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Schule leaving 

CONTINUATION classes were not known till later 
years and then they were fee-paying and the aver- 
age ambition of the boys was to become a " drawer " in the 
pit and later to become a worker at the coal face to get the 
full wages of a miner. 

For the girls there was even less to look forward 
to in employment To become a pithead girl was to remain 
one until the day she was married and then settle down in 
the village as those before her had done. She never doubted 
for a moment the possibility of her marriage. That was ac- 
cepted, not with an optimism as many do, but as a reality. 
In this she had every encouragement from the lives of all 
the girls in the village who had gone before her. There was 
never an old maid in the village. One reason, and the main 
one, is that a young miner never looked upon the future in 
any other way than that when the time came he would be 
married. After a few years in the mines he got work at the 
" face," generally under the supervision of his father, who 
trained him in the art of " howking " coal, on roof support 
for his safety, and the firing of explosives to loosen the coal. 
After that, he looked out for a " place o' his ain " when he 
would be allocated a small part of the coal " face " in one 
of the coal seams to produce the coal. These were all places 
where the miner's pick was his principal tool. This was long 
before the days of the coal-cutting machine. The coal was 
first of all loosened by " blasting " as in a quarry. Holes 
were driven by a boring machine when drills were used of 
various lengths, and explosives of various types were used. 
The coal thus loosened was filled into hutches and the rest 
was " freed " by the pick. 

It was only after a young miner had been a " drawer " 
for some time, when he took the loaded hutches to a point 
where a pony took a " raik " (a load of hutches) to the pit 
bottom, that he was promoted to be a " filler " of hutches. 
To separate the big pieces of coal from the dross he used 
a ribbed shovel, known as a harp. In due course there was 
as much dross as fill a hutch. This harp or " daft man's 



SCHULE LEAVING 59 

shovel " as it was often called, was intensely hated by the 
miners as it meant that the small coal had to be shovelled 
twice and payment for it was very much less than round 
coal. It was when working as a filler he served his appren- 
ticeship as a miner, when he was taught the important things 
in " face " working, how to get the coal and, most important, 
his own safety and the safety of others. In such work he was 
generally working under his father who, when he thought 
that his son's education had been completed, gave the man- 
ager a guarantee that the young miner could safely be 
trusted with a " place o' his ain." He was then given a ton- 
nage rate of wages from which he had to pay Ms filler and 
drawer. When he got that, his marriage followed soon after- 
wards on the promise by the manager that he " wud get 
the first empty hoose." 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Coortin' days 

DURING this time he had been courting and his 
progress in his work and the getting of the house 
determined the date of the wedding. 

The courting started generally very early in life, as 
marriages at Fordell took place when the couples were about 
twenty years of age. When it did start neither he nor she 
could put a date. If they both belonged to the village, the 
couple, in all probability, were in the same class at the 
" schule " and walked together up the lane from Coles Ter- 
race, past the old Bulwark Pit and pond. They may have 
found work at the same pit, she on the pithead and he, first 
of all, on the surface, playing the same pranks until he 
got a job " alow " ground. The asking to " tak " her to 
Fordell Ball would probably set a date when the village 
looked upon them as " lad and lass." From that stage every- 
thing was taken for granted. Certain nights in the week were 
set aside for the " coorting " and these nights were recog- 
nised, not only by the couple, but by companions and parents 
as well, and no household duties were imposed on the young 
lady on these nights. 

The actual courting was a very solemn occasion. It con- 
sisted, when the weather was suitable, of a walk on the 
" Eberdour " road or on the railway line to the Lady Ann 
and the William Pits, even though they were only traversing 
the same road as they took to their work during the day. 
If the weather was favourable they would sit on a fallen 
tree or a bank off the road and stay there until darkness 
crept on. Conversation was never a strong point and if silence 
can always be looked upon as golden their courtship must 
have been bliss. One reason of their lack of conversation 
was the limited subjects they could converse on because of 
the limited activities in social life in the village. Family 
affairs, which included nearly all the village, were touched 
upon lightly and even discussing future and past events, 
such as the Paraud, only brought mono syllables in reply. 
At last, as if the thought had struck both simultaneously, 
they would both rise for their return home when silence 



COORTIN' DAYS 61 

would again prevail. During the evening it could be fairly 
stated that there was no declaration of affection, for that was 
safely taken for granted, even when the walk was finished 
and the couple were finishing their courting for the night 
between the outside and inside -doors of the girl's home, 
when there was a deeper silence than ever that was broken 
occasionally by a cough or other such warning by the father 
that he was coming out to have his last look round and his 
last " draw of the pipe," or from the mother that she was 
coming out to take in the washing. 

The exception was, of course, when the young man was 
on the " back shift " or " night shift, ' which did not occur 
very often. If the courting had been going on for some 
time, she generally stayed at home when she helped her 
mother or she attended to the " bottom drawer," which may 
have been a trunk, of course, into which she stowed away 
articles of clothing she made often with the help of her 
mother, as part of her " providing." This was composed 
mostly of linen which was stored away with complete confi- 
dence that it was not placed there in vain or that the bride- 
groom would be any other person than her " lad." The 
progress , of the bottom drawer "providing" was very often 
an indication of the date of the wedding, determined finally 
by his progress at his work. 

The courting proceeded on the same quiet lines of con- 
fidence between the happy pair who did not expect the 
parting kiss, not even after they were engaged. In fact, the 
proposal never entered into courtship. If a miner's wife was 
asked when her man proposed to her, she would laugh at 
the idea and say, "Losh, Wull never proposed tae me. I 
kent fine efter the Forrester's Ball that I was gettin' him and 
he was as shair that he was gettin' me, and, mair than that, 
the hale o' Fordell was ' every bit as wise.' Whan he got 
a ' place ' in the Lady Ann he telt me that there was a hoose 
for him in Monteith Terrace and it was time to arrange for 
the ' waddin' ' and that was a' that was tae it." This latest 
development of the " coorting " of Wull and Jean, though 
never doubted by all those who had watched its growth, 
provided an added thrill to the village and something extra 
for the girls at their work, the wives at the " wall " when 
they met to draw water and discuss the latest news and 
rumours, and marked the time when the whole village took 
a keener interest in the happy couple and the approaching 
" waddin'." 

Wull's position in the home of the forthcoming bride 



62 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

takes on a new footing. He is at once accepted, not now as 
Jean's " lad," but an immediate relation. He is given the 
" run o' the hoose " and only on occasions, when the couple 
want to discuss private affairs, do they adjourn " ben " the 
hoose. The " but " was the kitchen where the family dined 
and where the father and mother slept along with the very 
youngest of the family. The " ben " was classified as the 
" best " room and there slept the older members of the 
family which, during the day, was only used for special 
occasions. Occasionally, during the " coorting " in its last 
stages, the couple had that room to themselves on a wet 
night, but now all that has changed, and the forthcoming 
relation to the family becomes on very intimate terms with 
all the members and told " mak' yirsel at hame Wull." He 
gets information about the relatives, most of which he has 
known before, and anecdotes are told about the pranks and 
doings of the parents on both sides when they were lad and 
lass. 

Wull is told " tae be shair tae bring alang his fether an' 
niither tae their tea," and Wull makes a promise that they 
will be " shair tae came." The date of the wedding is the 
first important item and this is intimated by the bride, gen- 
erally to suit the New Year holiday or the summer holiday, 
so that the couple can have a honeymoon of two days, 
generally with one of her relations in one of the larger 
towns. When this is not possible day trips are arranged ac- 
cording to the time of the year, a town at New Year time or 
a holiday resort in the summer. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

A Fordell waddin' 

AS one can readily understand a Fordell wedding 
was not a private affair confined to members of 
each family, but it was a village function. 

The first thing to be discussed was whether or not it was 
to be a " peyin' waddin'." This used to be almost unanimous 
many years ago when the Auld Schule, which later became 
the Band Hall, was taken for the occasion, as, being a vil- 
lage of one happy family, the difficulty was in knowing 
whom to invite and whom to leave out. There being no 
other hall or suitable building big enough for the occasion 
the Auld Schule solved the problem. Another problem was 
how to provide a marriage feast for such a large crowd and 
with the fund at the disposal of the bride's parents that was 
only solved by making a charge for admission, usually five 
shillings, or, as was more convenient, ten shillings a couple. 
Two male friends of the happy couple took the money at 
the door and guests had the satisfaction of knowing that 
they were not piling up a debt on the bride's parents that 
would take years to liquidate. In later years, however, over 
sixty years ago, there was a tendency for a change when 
there were a few instances of " private " weddings. In these 
instances, there was very little change in the proceedings, 
one being that the guests were invited formally instead of 
inviting themselves. It was absolutely necessary when the 
Auld Schule was not available and no house in a miners' 
row could accommodate all those who wanted to be present, 
a state of affairs easily understood when the whole village 
was like one large family and inter-married to a very large 
extent. For instance it would take more than one house to 
accommodate all the Penmans and Beveridges. 

With a " peyin' " wedding all difficulties about accom- 
modation was solved, as the Auld Schule had room for over 
a hundred guests, and domestic arrangements were not upset 
in any way. There were two long tables in the hall with a 
table at the top of the hall for members of the wedding 
party who were taken there in the " cab." The others walked 
and were given their positions as they entered the hall. The 



64 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

last to arrive were the bride and best maid to find the groom, 
the best man and minister waiting. Their approach was her- 
alded by a yelling crowd of youngsters with "here's the 
cab " and the guests took their places to form passage 
through which the bride and maid walked to the strains of 
a piano or melodeon. The minister, almost invariably Mr 
Clark of Mossgreen, soon put the wedding party at their ease, 
especially the 'groom, who said and did " as directed." 

After the formal signing of names, the bride and 'groom 
marched up and down between the tables with the seated 
guests and received the congratulations of the entire com- 
pany, not entirely enjoyed thoroughly by the 'groom as he 
was the victim of all kinds of banter from his pals. Then 
followed the toast to the bride and 'groom by the minister, 
to which the bridegroom replied after shouts of encourage- 
ment from his pals. This was done in a few words, as he had 
forgotten in his excitement the phrases he had been learning 
from memory and he then had his laugh at the predicament 
of the best man when replying for the best maid. Then the 
servers came on the scene and the best man, divesting him- 
self of his coat, attacked a big steak pie as he asked all 
present who wanted pie to hold up their hands. Two other 
large pies came on the scene and soon all the company were 
enjoying themselves to the " full." 

Previously two sections of the village had participated 
in the rejoicing. They were the children who participated 
in the " skoorie " of coppers thrown amongst them at the 
door by the best man before the wedding actually took place, 
but after the knot had been tied he would go to the door 
where he knew were a number of young and old men who 
wanted to drink the health of the happy couple and he 
handed out either one or two bottles of whisky. Very often, 
in their eagerness to participate they forgot the toast, but 
the neglect is unnoticed. 

After the repast, the company occupied the seats round 
the hall, the tables were cleared of the crockery, the floor was 
swept and the night's programme started with the grand 
march, headed by the newly-weds. There was never any lack 
of music, as, besides the piano brought in, this was the band 
hall, musical instruments of all kinds were at hand and very 
often the players were there too. As well as the usual square 
dances and the popular waltz, there were games for the 
children and the young men and women. During the resting 
periods, the vocalists, who were well-known to the audience, 
sang and whether or not the songs were appropriate to the 



A FORDELL WADDIN' 65 

occasion they were loudly cheered. Amongst the oldest of 
the guests were to be found singers of old-time songs, mostly 
in dialect, and they did not escape, although they didn't try 
hard, and such songs as " Robin Tamson's Smiddy," which 
starts as follows, were to be heard: 

My mither merit ma auld breeks, 
And, oh! but they were duddy, oh, 
And sent me get the mare shod 
At Robin Tamson's Smiddy, oh. 

So the fun went on till well on in the morning. The moth- 
ers of the happy couple used the night to get better acquainted 
and the history of each family was discussed in the most 
minute detail. 

With the excuse of taking some of the " good things " 
at the wedding to some invited guests who, for some reason, 
could not come, the bride and bridegroom left the hall 
with a cheery send-off from the guests, who cried out all kinds 
of advice, divided between the bride and bridegroom. 



CHAPTER XX. 

A private waddin' 

NOW and again there was a private wedding and 
it was favoured because of family details. Maybe 
the bride was a " stranger " to the village. Oh yes, occasion- 
ally such a person came into the lives of the Fordell Watties. 
There was the case of Maggie Wilson, born in Kelty, who 
came to the village to be the bride of a Beveridge and al- 
though she remained there all the rest of her long life of 
nearly eighty years she remained a " strainger." Then there 
was the case of Jenny Arnott who came from Crossgates 
when a " bairn." Her family settled down there and she 
married Johnnie Smairt and stayed altogether nearly seventy 
years, bringing up a large family. At her golden wedding 
she confessed to me she was " aye a strainger in Fordell " 
and never accepted as a native. 

When a private wedding took place it was for some 
personal reason and took place in the home of the bride. 
No doubt the statement that a wedding took place in a " but 
and ben " will cause some surprise, but a very important 
feature must not be left out, the " hoose next door." Without 
the house next door and, with luck, if there were one on 
either side, many of these weddings could never have taken 
place. " Guid neebors " was the rule almost without excep- 
tion in the village, which will have been generally understood 
by this time. The door of one was always open to members 
of the family next door, another strong evidence of the happy 
family village. In cases of trouble, sickness or accident, a 
sympathetic neighbour was a friend indeed, and it was to 
her the afflicted one went for sympathy and assistance in 
the full knowledge that she would not be denied. Should a 
mother be sick, the neebors would combine to relieve her 
of all domestic duties. They would send in a daughter or 
would go themselves or " tidy up the hoose," make the meals 
and attend to the general comforts of all the members of the 
family. In time of sickness, worry and even mourning, she 
also mourned and was a great comfort in affliction, her 
kindly words and tactful disposition providing a means of 
relief to the bereaved. 



A PRIVATE WADDIN' 67 

In time of rejoicing, such as a wedding, the same spirit 
was manifest and everything was placed at the. disposal of 
(he bride's father and mother including the furniture, the 
crockery and accommodation. From the bride's house was 
laken all the superflous furniture for the occasion and stored 
lor the night with a " neebor " who supplied all the chairs, 
plates, and cutlery required for the large gathering. The 
" but and ben " were both laid as dining rooms and round 
i he walls were the chairs or, if available, forms from the 
Sunday School which was again the Auld Schule. 

In the case of Wull and Jean, a private wedding was 
decided upon and at once arrangements were made. The 
list of invitations was made out with a great deal of diffi- 
culty as accommodation was limited and relations must 
have preference. It was a simple matter to know where the 
word relations could be applied but where to stop was a 
more difficult problem and it was generally understood that 
the list was subject to alterations. 

For a month before the event presents came along, but 
a night, two days before the ceremony, was set aside for the 
exhibition of the gifts, when tea was handed round. In 
Fordell in the selection of wedding presents Shakespear's 
advice was generally taken when the presents were neither 
" rich nor gaudy " but usefulness was the one thing in the 
minds of the givers. Two nights before the event the bride 
and her mother looked after the invitations which were 
neither printed nor posted. The two started out and made a 
round of calls to give personal invitations. They started with 
a plan of a route and followed it, with so long at each house 
a time-table that was never kept. 

If the bridesmaid was available she accompanied the 
couple, and passing by the door on either side, as they know 
they could not be done without, called at the first house on 
I heir list. 

When they got inside, the mother imparts the news that 
l hey were giving out "biddings" to Jean's waddin'. If the 
inmates were not relations the reply was generally that they 
were surprised at getting a " bidding " as there were plenty 
" o' their ain folk to fill the hoose " but if there was room 
" they wud be pleased tae be there." 

" Weel, that's settled, and the cab will ca' for you." 

" Dinna fash wi' a cab for us, we can easy walk there " 
is brushed aside with the remark " We're haein' a cab and 
(here is nae need tae walk." 

The talk conveniently turned to wedding presents and a 



68 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

daughter announced that she had laid by a pair of sheets 
as she worked in a Linen Factory in the toon and she would 
bring them along some night. She was thanked for the in- 
formation and the bride took a mental note which was very 
necessary to avoid duplication. The mother in the house 
suggested that she give the couple a washing tub, and a 
scrubbing board, and the reply was " that will come in very 
handy." This information was also carefully noted and the 
visitors left for another home and by this time the news had 
proceeded them and a somewhat similar scene followed. In 
one house the man said " he'll no' see them stuck for their 
first cairt o' coal," while on a few occasions an invited guest 
gives the information that he was " weel acquant " with a 
fermer that had real guid dung and " he wud see that he'll 
drap a cairt load on the wey tae the Alice tae get a cairt o' 
coal." Only Fordell Watties realised that this last wedding 
present was not so ridiculous as it will strike outsiders today 
or even sixty years ago, as the " gairden " took the foremost 
place in the life of the village and instances, where a name 
was common, such as Beveridge or Penman, a particular 
man was often recognised by his reputation in the growing 
of a certain flower or vegetable, such as " Pansy Wullie." 
This was a variation of the habit of adding a letter to the 
name for identification as Beveridge A, Beveridge B, and 
so on. 

Gradually this visitation came to an end and when that 
time came a careful study is made of the chance of anyone 
having been forgotten and, if so, that was at once remedied. 
There was never any question of the supply of music, as 
more than one fiddler either volunteered or was pledged to 
come, through his parents. Generally there are two, one to 
relieve the other. 

" Whan are you gettin' the key o' the hoose? " was the 
question that started an arrangement of the bride's com- 
panions to start cleaning operations. This generally took 
two days before the wedding and the last night finished with 
" trying " the floor with dancing. The men folk were well 
warned to be " shair and wipe your feet." The curtains for 
the windows appeared as if by magic and pictures appeared 
on the walls, very often Willie Gladstone and Burns and 
Highland Mary, the favourite statesman and poet. 

Early next morning, all were busy in the bride's house. 
The larger pieces of furniture were taken into the houses 
next door and the tables were laid with the necessary crock- 
ery. The arrival of a cab started the activity as it brought 



A PRIVATE WADDIN' 69 

in its train of all the youngsters in the village. There was a 
special cheer for the minister, Mr Clark, as this was the 
intimation that the last guest had arrived. Soon the bride 
and best maid entered the building from the front door of 
a house next door, by way of the garden, quite unnoticed, 
into the front room, and when the 'groom and best man took 
their places in front of the minister, they walked into the 
room to the strains of the Wedding March, and general 
admiration of the bonnie bride. Before this stage the minister 
had made certain the necessary papers were at hand without 
which the marriage could not proceed. Mr Clark, more 
affectionately known as " Paddy Clark " to his knowledge 
and silent approval, soon made the party feel at ease. The 
bridegroom felt his hands in the way, but the best man used 
one to feel his waistcoat pocket to assure himself that the 
wedding ring was there when wanted and the service started 
with the famous Wedding March. 

There is little difference in the ceremony from a " peyin' " 
wedding, with the exception that it was more of a family 
affair, especially in the procession of the happy couple among 
the uncles and aunts, cousins and nephews, and the greetings 
were more intimate. The various toasts were proposed and 
the bridegroom and best man felt greatly relieved when they 
had said their little prepared speech which, though learned 
to memory, was never recited as written and practised. Mr 
Clark was in his element, for he was a well-known humorist, 
and the fun was increased by his loud laughter at his own 
jokes. A slight noise at the door was the announcement that 
the pies had arrived and a little later they were brought in, 
to the relief of the various helpers. There were two, one 
going to the top table and the other to the other table. The 
best man attended to the first, having previously taken off 
his coat, and he was asking what each guest wanted, from 
pie to roast beef and chicken, but out of that pie came all 
the fare, the excuse for the absence of the chicken being 
that the hen promised had got better. There was no standing 
on ceremony an " that's richt Tarn, hae your usual " an- 
nounced that one of the guests was having his usual second 
helping. 

By this time, the bairns have had their " skoorie " of 
pennies and the usual bottle of whisky had been handed 
out and soon, with one accord, the tables were dismantled 
and the guests took places round the kitchen or " but." Then 
came the Grand March and there were two dances before 
the older men in the company discovered that the room was 



70 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

getting uncomfortably warm and they went outside to get a 
smoke. 

" What's a' your hurry for a smoke," says the wife of 
one. " Mrs Hamilton disna pit you oot afore ten o'clock. 
What's wrang wi' giein' us a song afore you gann up the hill." 

A compromise was arranged when Jimmy agreed to sing 
" Afton Water " and wi' Liza to sing " The Crookit Bawbee." 
When this was over they again made for the door. A slight 
halt was made when one of the men was advised, if they 
were gaun for a smoke, he'd better tak' his pipe that he left 
on the mantelpiece next door. 

When they had gone, dancing was started in real earnest, 
generally Quadrilles and some of the popular country dances. 
Liquid refreshments were served at intervals and when the 
old men returned they were greeted with, " Has Mrs Hamil- 
ton turned you oot and is it tea you're efter? " They admitted 
to the second impeachment, but not the first, although they 
also admitted that, being lag Friday, they got landed amang 
a lot o' their cronies. 

A very few of the dances satisfied the older women who 
then adjourned " ben " the room for a claver on the current 
village topics and hint at forthcoming weddings. Refresh- 
ments from a black bottle were introduced but very few 
indulge. Care had to be taken not to take one refusal as 
being definite for all night, as this might give offence on the 
grounds of " I ken I said no last time, but I dinna like tae 
be mislipped and aye like tae get the offer." About three 
o'clock in the morning the bride and bridegroom departed 
with cakes, etc., to take to old relations who could not be 
present but who expected to get the chance of wishing the 
happy couple all the best in their married life. 

The company know that this was the last they would see 
of the couple and when they had gone there were quiet smiles 
all round at the prospect of the success of their tricks of 
putting holly leaves in their bed. The company gradually 
disappeared, leaving the courting couples a while to them- 
selves atween the doors, or the older men haein' a last drink 
or deoch and doris, and shairing it with some of the miners 
making their way to the Lady Ann or the William Pits. The 
young mm and women at the wedding would not go to their 
beds. 

For a snell my thoughts lingered on the scene as the 
various guests made their way home. No street lighting 
guided their way on roads flattered by the name of street, 
a shaded window light of some house where someone was 



A PRIVATE WADD1N' 71 

dressing to go to work showing up a few of the many puddles 
or crudely-made " shuch " or gutter. There was a sudden 
quietness after the cheery " guid nichts " as they departed 
from the scene of merriment and in some quiet corner 
another romance was either being started, strengthend, or 
had brought the wedding " crys " or a wedding to some 
fixed date. Such warnings as " Mind, folk are in their beds " 
quietened the younger ones and the very youngest were 
generally asleep and were being carried home by the parents. 
The homeward march was always accompanied by a discreet 
quiet that was a credit to the village, following the rather 
boisterous but good-natured hilarity. There was no evidence 
of the visits to Mrs Hamilton or the effects of the " health 
to the song " a short time previous. At the scene of the 
festivities there was a last cup of tea for those who had to 
set to and clean up and restore the house and the next door 
one to their usual and the " forms " taken back to the Band 
Hall. 

While recalling this scene I am reminded of a scene that 
took place at such a wedding when just before the party 
were " scaling," one of the guests, who had come from 
Lochee, said that there was something he thought he was in 
honour bound to say. When some of his friends in Lochee 
had got to learn he was going to a miners' wedding in Fife 
he was advised to prepare himself for the occasion which 
would certainly arise, and he produced from a coat pocket 
some sticking plaster and a bottle of linament which, he was 
told, he would find a use for. He would take back these 
articles and would have the pleasure of saying that they 
were not required. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

The Readin' Room Denner 

SUCH was a Fordell wedding, one of the few social 
events of the village. The others were the annual 
Paraud, the Forresters' Picnic and Sports, the Sunday School 
Picnic during the summer months, and Fordell Ball and 
Reading Room "Denner" in the winter. 

The last mentioned was a purely male affair and was 
eagerly looked forward to. Michael Johnstone was the chair- 
man for many years and nearly everyone present took part 
in the programme. Tke big pies from Baker Wilson in Cross- 
gates were looked forward to with eager anticipation and 
" Tarn," one of the young men who never was heard to 
whisper, was often said to be on a starvation diet for two 
days previous in order to be able to take full advantage of 
the " denner." However, he never carried out his boast of 
being able to eat a " hale " pie and start on another, and 
he just settled down to a thorough enjoyment of the pro- 
ceedings. There was never a scarcity of singers and musical 
instruments and the oldest members, while they thoroughly 
enjoyed themselves, also gave entertainment to the others 
with the rendering of their old time favourite songs, the 
choruses of which were heard a long distance away. In the 
early morning pranks were played. As it was held generally 
on a " lag " Friday, with no work next day, the proceedings 
lasted well on in the morning and then the pranks were 
started. The bell on the colliery stables, taken from a battle- 
ship commanded by one of the early Lairds associated with 
the colliery, looked upon as the " toon clock," would ring 
out vigorously, but no one complained, not even the manager 
in Anson Hill. 

One of the best stories about the village is associated 
with a Reading Room Denner and has gained a national 
reputation. 

In Fordell village there was a Hearse Society with a 
Village Committee who acquired a hearse and it was main- 
tained by small contributions by the members. In the event 
of a death in the village this machine came into service, thus 
considerably reducing the expenses at "uich a time. The 



THE READIN* ROOM DENNER 73 

hearse was kept at the rear of the village " store." After a 
Reading Room " denner " one of the company had more 
than his share of the " barley bree " and his companions 
put him to sleep in the hearse. Others later thought it would 
be a good joke to take the Hearse doon the Aberdour brae 
for the distance of about a quarter of a mile and there they 
left him. The story goes that at six o'clock in the morning 
his companions had forgotten all about him and had gone 
home. He, however, was wakened by the Stables Bell and, 
crawling out, he was convinced that this was the Judgment 
Morning and, finding that he was all alone, he said, shaking 
his head, " Judgment Day an' I'm a' on ma ain. It's a 
damned puir tum-oot for Fordell." 



CHAPTER XXII. 

The Sunday school picnic; 
tired o' religion; and the menage 

f "■' "i 
1 HE children of Fordell had always one good day of 

X the year, namely the Sunday School Picnic. For six 
weeks previous to the picnic the children had to attend regu- 
larly to entitle them to a ticket and, during that time, there 
was no trouble in getting the attendance required. 

Farmers in the district supplied corn " cairts " and at 
an early hour on the Saturday morning of the picnic they 
duly appeared with the horses, all dressed with ribbons, and 
the drivers decorated with rosettes. The children were all 
nicely dressed for the occasion at the expense of a sacrifice 
on the parts of the parents and, armed with a " tinny " 
each, they boarded these carts and the procession started for 
some place like Aberdour or some private estate three or 
four miles away. A melodeon player was always in the first 
cart and to the singing of hymn tunes, Sankey and Moodie, 
the procession made its way to the appointed place. Two 
meals were served on the grass, cakes and milk, and between 
the meals races and games amused the children. 

This picnic was held by the Established Church at 
Mossgreen, though the Sunday School was held at Fordell, 
and all the children, with a very few exceptions, put in an 
appearance. The main difficulty was a question of suitable 
dress for the occasion, a question of expense. It was sur- 
prising, however, to see very often how the very poorest in 
the village managed to get there. Presents of suitable articles 
of clothing, a dress and shoes, mysteriously found their way 
to the poorer homes, quite a number by the colliery officials 
acting on instructions from the " big hoose." The question 
of the various religious denominations presented no difficulty 
as the only place of worship was the Church at Mossgreen 
with a mission meeting some time in the Auld Schule on 
Sunday nights. No other religious denominations functioned. 
The Rev. John Clark used to tell a story, against himself 
and the Church of Scotland, of how one of his flock left his 
church to join one of the newer forms of religion of the 



THE SUNDAY SCHOOL PICNIC 75 

Plymouth Brethem, who met at Cowdenbeath. He did not 
stay away very long, but returned to Mossgreen Church after 
a lapse of a few months. Mr Clark, anxious to know why he 
had come back to the fold, put the question to him and 
the reply was to the effect that he had left the Mossgreen 
Kirk to go to a religious place, but after a while he got 
tired of religion and he had to come back to the Auld Kirk, 
as the Church of Scotland was best known by him. 

As 1 sit here viewing the rapid demolition of this unique 
village after many years of town life, both in Fife, Scotland 
and England, and the very busiest centre of American life, 
the uppermost thought in my mind was the happy content- 
ment shown by the Fordell natives recalling the famous lines 
in Gray's Elegy — " Far from the crowds ignoble strive, their 
sober wishes never learned to stray." 

Did they really enjoy this isolation from choice? After 
all, the town life was not so very far removed, so I am 
forced to the conviction that this was their ideal existence 
and they desired no other. Certainly the cinema was never 
even dreamed of but I had to come to the conclusion that 
even the cinema at Cowdenbeath and Dunfermline, far less 
the ice-hockey, would not have enticed them from their 
isolation. There were two reasons I had in mind. The first 
was the very small wages paid to the miners in these days 
and the other was their inborn desire for peace and quiet. 
Added to this, there was a natural feeling of inferiority com- 
plex, which, to some extent, limited their desire to mix with 
city life and the uncomfortable feeling of mixing with 
strangers when they would be outside their element. They 
had glimpses of that life when they spent their annual gala 
in some big town and they preferred to spend their life 
among their ain folk in their native village. I wondered how 
many of the total number in the village actually never spent 
a night out of their own home. Then how did they amuse 
themselves for the rest of the year apart from the few fete 
days in the village? Even at the New Year holiday time they 
had an attraction of their own. I wonder how many people 
have heard of the word " menage " and know its meaning. 
Well, Fordell had a Menage at the New Year time. It was 
conducted by a well-known man known as " Basty Reenie," 
no doubt the local pronunciation of Mr Sebastian Rennie. 
With his wife, they lived in a two-roomed house with a stone 
floor. 

During the New Year week the kitchen, with its stone 
floor, was, as usual, spotlessly clean. The couple invested in 



76 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

a large number of New Year Black Buns, shortbread, cakes, 
bottles of whisky and oranges. On a table in the middle of 
the floor were laid six-sided dice and a dice box. There they 
spent happy hours throwing dice, usually a penny a throw, 
and when twelve people invested a penny a piece they threw 
the dice until one with the highest number got a prize of 
a cake of shortbread, a currant bun or a dozen of oranges. 
For the whisky, valued at that time at half-a-crown, a larger 
number of entries had to be secured before the throwing 
started. 

The younger generation were generally treated with 
sweets and the men often started the night with a free drink 
of whisky. On reflection after all these years, I am forced 
to the conclusion that, though strong drink was often re- 
ferred to in a way that gave one the opinion that temper- 
ance was little known in the village, drunkenness was almost 
unknown. I cannot remember seeing drunk men and, even 
at the Menage, when drink was given free, the women folk 
were never molested but always held in great respect and 
treated as the gentler sex, though many could load a coal 
waggon from the ground with a number ten shovel as well 
as any man. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

The evenm' danner wi' music 

O^E popular way the young men and women spent 
their summer evenings was the everuW « danner " 
on the country roads leading from the village e jther on the 
road to Aberdour or down the mineral railway a means of 
amusement that was both healthy and, at the same time 
responsible to a large extent for that " neeboriiness " which 
characterised the village life. 

These evening outings took place in the longest days of 
the year. The pithead girls finished work about four o'clock 
but by the time that they were " cleaned up " an( j jj a( j ne k>ed 
with the household work the girls from the Dunfermline 
linen factories were home and had their tea and those who 
did housework had more than earned a tim e f or res t an( j 
recreation. Shortly before seven o'clock, without anv ore- 
arrangement, they would meet at different points some at 
the Lovers' Loan, others at the end of Monteith Terrace 
and with the arrival of the melodeon player, sometimes two' 
a start would be made for the Aberdour Ro a< j t he favourite 
walk, the melodeon player in front, with the rest made up 
generally of mostly girls in threes, arm in arm> who joined 
in with singing the tune selected. The young me n joined in 
at different places or were at the usual halting place at the 
bottom of the hill near to a convenient g ate to a field on 
the roadside. That gate was very necessary as it provided 
a seat for the musician. He had a very extensive repertoire 
suitable for chorus work, when all would j j n m t jj e favour- 
ites. Then he would strike up a waltz and dancing would 
commence. One can easily understand how the waltz was 
the favourite dance as the girls had either a h arc i t en hours 
work at the pithead or had to make a very ear i v start t0 set 
to Dunfermline and the sentimental rhythm of the waltz was 
more in keeping with their physical conditi on and the still 
and quiet of the rural surroundings. Occasi ona Ily there was 
one of the more lively dances, such as the polka' but these 
were favoured only by the youngest of th e company. The 
selection of partners was a very simple matter for though 
there was a " lad and lass " element and,,there were favourite 



78 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

partners there was never a question of any girl being left 
out. The melodeon players had a very extensive list of tunes 
suitable for the occasion and the words of the well-known 
waltz tunes provided the vocal part of the evening's enter- 
tainment. There was a similarity in the evening programmes 
on these occasions and the fading light and the order of 
the tunes was a certain indication of the time when the 
player got from his seat on the gate and the homeward 
march would commence. 

All the young men and women of the village were not 
to be found there as a large number of the once habitual 
attenders were now absent and it is not difficult to explain 
why. One by one, or rather two by two, they answered the 
mating call and what could be more natural than that of 
the embrace of the waltz with the co-ordinating steps and 
entrancing expressions of love should determine who were 
best suited for each other. This was another example of 
the silent courtship that brought about the wedding bells, 
the ringing of the stable bell, and the flying of a flag on 
the bride's house and the pulley wheel platform when one 
or perhaps both were employed in that pit. They never 
forgot these impromptu meetings and often took part in the 
closing waltz as they made their way home from walks in 
the country. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Neebors a' 

C "y 1 
I H'E married people found their enjoyment in their 

A gardens in the spring, summer and autumn, for it 

was only in the cold winter days that the Fordell gardens did 

not attract the attention of the gardeners. Then the oldest and 

youngest found house-to-house visitation a very pleasant 

way of passing the winter nights. It was very seldom a house 

door was locked and none boasted chub locks and when 

bed time came there was no anxiety about the whereabouts 

of missing members of a family for they could be found 

next door very unwilling to come home and go to bed after 

of course the nightly hands and face washing, especially the 

hands. On the other hand the children returning home knew 

that their parents could also be found next door for a 

" blether," especially the mother, who could always find 

many excuses of going next door if any excuse was required. 

It will have been made apparent that this " neeborliness " 
was a prominent feature of the village and although it was 
practiced in other Scottish mining villages it was never to 
the same extent as make it a characteristic feature as it was 
in Fordell. 

There is a well-known Scottish saying, " We're a' John 
Tamson's Bairns," which does not need any explanation, 
but that saying would have been refuted literally if applied 
to Fordell last century, for while the sentiment was very 
appropriate, Fordell natives never accepted John Tamson 
as a native of the village, as they always associated him and 
his descendants with Crossgates. The same may be said of 
Geordie Penman, for years Provost of Cowdenbeath. 
Although he was one of the branch of the family who went 
to reside at Cowdenbeath and some who went to Kelty, 
generally because of the number who took a prominent part 
in the development of the mining industry, starting with 
Auld Willie Penman, father of Provost Penman, who helped 
to develop the industry in West Fife along with his many 
sons. Then Geordie played a comet in Crossgates Brass 
Band which was, to Fordell folk, inexcusable. They were 
the prodigal sons of the village. Even with the Beveridges 



80 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

one member of the family left many years ago. She was 
Granny Beveridge who, after a very adventurous life with 
her husband and family in different West Fife villages, event- 
ually settled down at Cowdenbeath, where she passed away 
a few years ago, over ninety years of age. She had always 
a warm side for Fordell and used to relate to me of how at 
one time her mother was employed underground in Bulwark 
Pit and how she was actually born down the pit. When an 
infant she was taken down the pit and was put to sleep in 
some convenient " waste " not far away, near where her 
mother was employed. 

In these days there were stair pits in Fordell, the women 
carrying the coal up the shaft in creels by a series of stair- 
ways with suitable landings. Thus it will be seen that the 
exception was the family who did not have a life-long family 
connection with the village, and it extended to several gener- 
ations. The closing down of the village recently, in one 
instance, ended the residence of five generations in the 
village, but there were instances of where members of the 
fifth generations were still employed in Fordell Colliery. 

This, to a large extent, explains the " neeborliness " in 
the village as, while it is a common belief that relations 
" 'greed better apairt," that did not apply to Fordell. Some- 
times one heard the expression " I 'clare to my guidness ane 
canna ca' his hoose his ain," but that was how the Fordell 
folk wanted it and no other way. 

This intermingling of the domestic relations of the differ- 
ent families maintained a cameraderie best understood with 
the word " neeborliness " that brought about so many bless- 
ings. It brought about a broad and deep sympathy with each 
other that tended to the general welfare of the village. As 
has been shown, it was evident in time Of rejoicing, such as 
a wedding and, in a lesser degree, a birth, but it was more 
beautifully revealed at times of misfortune when all the best 
traits in human nature came to the front, not with a show 
of generosity, but with a modesty that was a part of their 
existence. Their only recompense or award, though that 
latter word was never contemplated, was the knowledge that 
in their time of trouble and affliction the same kindly, prac- 
tical sympathy would be extended to them. Residents in 
the largest towns will find it very difficult to realise the full 
truth of this Fordell " neeborliness " as, in many instances, 
a family in a large tenement house always remained 
strangers to many families in the same building. A well- 
known West Fife man closely associated with Fordell tells 







Fordell Brass Band — taken at Lassodie Games — 



*& 

p- 



-1 



. * 



■*.-■: 



vv*-„ 



-I '»» ** 4 



*i.O 



3^ 




Harry Lauder and his wife 



John Smart and his wife 
on the occasion of their golden weddin 



NEEBORS A' 81 

of an incident in New York of how he was once in the 
happy position of being able to allow a man to fulfil a very 
important appointment by giving him the small sum of five 
cents, the relative value in the country at the time of a sub- 
way fare of a penny, because he had inadvertently left his 
home with no money. The American could not understand 
how anyone would give him the money with no possibility 
of repayment and it was only after travelling together for 
over ten miles in the Subway that the Fifer was able to 
convince him that the enjoyment and pleasure he received 
out of doing another man a good turn compensated him 
far and above the monetary value of the gift. I tell this 
story at this stage to explain how, in many instances, in 
Fordell many such gifts were made and all the more appre- 
ciated because they were opportune and genuine because 
they were anonymous. 

As I sit here, in the days of National Assistance, compen- 
sation, unemployment grants, old age pensions, and the 
various sources of assistance to the ageing people, " free " 
education, " free " books and bursaries, and recall the very 
small wages of miners, no holidays with pay, no compen- 
sation for going down the pit many days to find there was 
no work because of such things as falls from the roof or 
the common " no waggons," I marvel how the miners and 
their families managed to exist. There were always many 
holes in a miner's belt and many mornings he had to pull 
his belt another hole before he went to his work in order 
that his family or the family next door may get some sort 
of breakfast. 

I make no excuse for this digression as it explains in the 
most thorough way that kindly feeling and I must repeat 
the word " neeborliness " that existed in Fordell over sixty 
years ago and for many years before and after. 

There were no grants for special expenses at a birth but 
the little " strangers " were always provided for in the way 
of clothing. The many benefits of the modern maternity 
hospitals of to-day must make one wonder at how in a village 
of houses of not more than a " but and ben," and with 
families that averaged six, that arrangements for a birth were 
made possible, but the fact remains that these things took 
place and the only explanation is that the immediate neigh- 
bours rose to the occasion. The mother had a room to 
herself and the husband and children were catered for with 
food and sleeping accommodation while family washing for 
the " neebors " was larger than usual and more often. " Just 

F 



82 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

the thing the doctor ordered" in the way of special diets, 
such as eggs, and in some cases, wines, seemed to come from 
nowhere and no one made inquiries as to whom the donors 
were. Verbal thanks and appreciation were never given or 
wanted. 

Even the youngest children did their part in the way of 
helping by not expecting so much of the attention bestowed 
on them in normal times and they willingly ran the extra 
messages when their only reward was a look at their little 
sister or brother or, better still, the baby who had arrived 
next door. 

The occasion of a birth was, after all, an event for which 
preparation in a general way could be made, but sickness 
or aceident was an entirely different matter. In a mining 
village the latter came upon them without warning, though 
being an entirely mining village, there was always that feared 
but unspoken dread that an accident underground would 
take place, that all the care in roof support did not prevent 
a " fall " because of a " greasy lipe " or some part of the 
haulage would get put out of order. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

The toll of the pits 

FATAL accidents in Fordell were exceptionally few, 
however. Tombstones in Mossgreen Churchyard tell 
of the victims of the explosion in the William Pit in the 
seventies when the " gigsman," Mr Arnott, and pithead girls 
were killed. In that case a boiler burst and the tragedy shocked 
the Fife coalfield. A somewhat similar accident took place 
at St. David's when a colliery engine boiler exploded and 
two men were killed. At the beginning of the century two 
men were killed underground, one the manager, Mr Morton, 
and the other the Inspector of the Day Level, Mr Pollock, 
both shank accidents, but up to within recent years a fatality 
at the face was practically unheard of. Coal had been worked 
on the Fordell Estate since the latter part of the 13th century 
and Fordell village came into existence about 1800, but all 
the time that coal was worked on the estate there never had 
been anything in the shape of a serious mining accident. 
This immunity can be attributed to the fact that boys who 
entered the mines got very careful instructions from their 
parents. A boy was placed under the care of his father, who 
apprenticed him in the art of coal extraction and, above 
all, " safety first," especially roof control. 

In these days the coal was always hand picked; it was 
long before the days of Horizon Mining, coal cutting 
machines, belt conveyors and mechanical transport. The 
lads took the coal in hutches to a point from which ponies 
were used to convey the coal to the pit bottom. At the same 
time the coal was taken from the best of the top seams and 
gas and black damp was practically unknown. Safety lamps 
were not required and thus the cause of most of the country's 
mining disasters was absent. This was so until the working 
of the Alice Pit, the latest pit to be sunk in 1880, but was 
not operated until 1897, when mechanism was introduced, 
but very fortunately gas, and its fatal companion " black 
damp," have been absent. This state of affairs has proved 
a great blessing to the Fordell miness and there has been 
no call for the display of heroism which has been evident 



84 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

when a mining tragedy has taken place in other parts of 
the British coalfield. 

On a few occasions, the coal has gone on fire by friction 
in such seams as the Lochgelly Splint and there was never 
any scarcity of volunteers for fire fighters, and the heroism 
of the Fordell miners was never in doubt if ever there had 
been the risking of life to save the lives of their fellow 
workers. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

My brother's keeper 

IN a mining community there has always been the 
individual accident, such as injuries to limb, which 
necessitated a miner being laid off work for a time and here 
we had the finest traits of the Fordell miners brought to 
the surface. 

In the days before the Miners' Compensation Act an in- 
jured miner's home was bereft of income and where there was 
only one wage earner in the home one can fully understand 
what the position of affairs was. Here the miners came to 
the rescue. This was responsible for the " drawings " at the 
colliery office on pay days. Two men with a pass book stood 
at the office and collected small donations from the workers 
on getting their pay and donations were given by all, small 
as they sometimes were, but which most could ill afford. 
This was also carried out in the case of illness and there was 
scarcely a pay day but there was a " drawing " for some 
unfortunate family. 

As I sit here in the brilliant sunshine and, looking over 
the village to the pleasant scene to the south, with the Forth 
Bridge in the background, with beautifully-wooded scenes 
in the foreground making in all a picture to be remembered, 
I wonder how many people in the present generation, having 
successfully secured their share of the good things in life, 
fully realise how different were the conditions sixty years 
ago and how much worse they were for hundreds of years 
before that in that wonderful village lying at my feet. Re- 
viewing the lives of the natives is much simplified in the fact 
that all the people to be dealt with were of the mining 
fraternity. 

Over sixty years ago, when I first made contact with 
them, every house in the village belonged to the Fordell 
Coal Company, always privately owned. Pits had been sunk, 
worked out and abandoned, and the ones in existence then 
were the William Pit, formerly called the Wellington, the 
George, and the Lady Anne. The George, which was closed 
down nearly sixty years ago, was the only means of supply- 



86 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

ing the home market, with the exception of a small amount 
in land sale from the Lady Anne, supplied to the countryside 
in carts, the George being the only pit with a connection 
with the national railways. 

A friend of my youth, Tom Paton, one of the very few 
boys from Cowdenbeath employed in the George Pit before 
it closed down, explained to me recently that he got work 
there because the pit was actually nearer Cowdenbeath than 
Fordell. He was employed with a few others in the only 
seam in operation in the pit and they could never be sure 
of a day's work. In the morning they used to sit at the pit- 
head and watch for a train of empty waggons that passed 
daily on the main railway. If the train did not stop it meant 
that there were no orders for coal and the men were idle 
for that day. Back they would come next day always with 
the optimism that the train would stop. 

A private harbour, St. David's, was constructed in 1854, 
which could take vessels of between 500 and 600 tons, and 
was connected with a private railway laid down in the second 
half of the 1801 century. It was a very primitive railway 
indeed, as, while the waggon wheels were of iron, the waggon 
rails were of wood. The waggons, very small, carrying a 
little over two tons, are still in use today, but on iron rails. 
I mention these details to explain the conditions which 
had a very big effect on the lives of the Fordell miners. 
Practically all the coal of the colliery was exported from 
St. David's for ports in Britain and the continent. A large 
amount was carried to the Baltic ports and the fact that the 
Baltic was closed by ice for three months in the year had 
a big influence on the colliery export trade and naturally it 
affected the lives of the miners. Coal was very plentiful in 
these days, with the result that competition for the foreign 
market was very keen. Coal had to be sold at a very low 
figure to get the market and the miners were the biggest 
sufferers. The " face " miners were paid by results, namely, 
at so much a ton of twenty- two cwts. after it had reached 
the pithead. Unlike the coal sold today it had to be " clean " 
coal and the miner had from his reduced earnings to pay 
the wages of his " drawer " and " filler." My earliest recol- 
lections were that the miner earned about 3/- to 3/6 per 
day, not for an eight hours day, which was introduced later, 
but to get as much money as possible in the form of wages 
many a miner was always anxious to get " anither tither 
yin," meaning another hutch of coal to give anything like 
a living wage. Gradually the earnings of the miners got 



MY BROTHERS KEEPER. 87 

bigger and sixty years ago a couplet gave an indication of 
the miners' ideal: 

Eight hours to work 

Eight hours to play 

Eight hours to sleep 

And eight " bob " a day. 
For a long number of years that was only a dream, an 
aspiration. A national basic wage was fixed in 1888 and 
figured prominently until a few years ago. During that time 
all increases were calculated on percentages on the old rate 
of payment. That was a constant grievance, namely the fix- 
ing of an increase on so much per cent, on basic rate of 
many years before. Eventually that was altered and an in- 
crease of say six per cent, was calculated on the then rate 
of wages. However, the basic wage was not the factor that 
determined the miners' remuneration. It was the question of 
the loss of work caused by the pits being thrown idle from 
several reasons, through no fault of the miners, when they 
were not paid anything. At Fordell this was a very serious 
matter which, in recent years, has entirely disappeared. 

Nearly all the coal produced, as I stated before, for 
reasons mentioned, was for the foreign market and exported 
through St. David's. The closing of the Baltic ports had a 
big say in this and during that time of the year the export 
trade was much reduced and there was a keener competition 
for the home market and the other European markets and 
sometimes the difference of a farthing to a penny a ton 
meant all the difference of getting a big order or not and 
whether or not the pits were to be thrown idle. The pro- 
prietors did their best to keep the pits going, but the limited 
rolling stock in the form of waggons and the limited siding 
accommodation, owned by Fordell Colliery, meant more 
idle time and loss of wages for the miners. When the wag- 
gons were full and there were no orders, the pits were thrown 
idle. This was a serious matter for the miner as no work, 
no pay, was the order of the day. 

The proprietors, anxious to relieve the situation to some 
extent, commenced laying down a reserve supply of coal, 
known as a " bing," at the Lady Anne, but that was another 
expense to be added to the working costs as, when business 
improved, " filling off the bing " into the waggons, by means 
of a steam hoist, had to be carried out. The rate of pay for 
this work was very low but the miners were glad to accept 
it, and a number were anxious to work extra hours at the 
" bing " to eke out the family income, much reduced by the 



8S BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

many idle days. There were anxious inquiries at St. David's 

TJ th " b ° ate ^ WCre CX P eCted or were on thek way 
and the miners waited with anxiety for news of empty wag-' 
gons coming for the harbour. Meanwhile the "off take/" 
such as rent, household coal and doctor's fees, had to be 
met so that, m many instances, the pay lines every fortnight 
were -very much reduced and a common expression 2 
th balance was not worth the wasting of shoe leather to 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

John Tamson's bairns 

HERE was where the " cameraderie " and the 
brotherly atmosphere of Fordell village played its 
part. Food was the first necessity. Potatoes were the main 
source of diet and luckily they were a very cheap commodity. 
" Tatties and dab at the stool " was very common. The pota- 
toes, very often from a stock stored from a miner's garden and 
given free, were boiled and served all round the family who 
" dabbed " them into a dish of salt in the centre of the 
table or on a stool in the middle of the floor. At certain 
times of the year a herring " cadger " came from Inverkeith- 
ing and got a good sale for his stock at three a penny. 
Occasionally a miner killed a pig he reared and the pork 
distributed at never more than sixpence a pound and very 
often much less, even for nothing. Flour and meal provided 
scones and porridge and milk was always a cheap com- 
modity. Bootware seldom provided a difficulty for the 
children, during the summer, ran about bare-footed and 
the repairing of the men's and women's boots was solved 
by quite a number of the miners who had become expert in 
this work by practice. The cost of the leather was the only 
expense. A barber's services were dispensed with as every 
miner shaved himself and the sight of a miner or two who 
had become proficient, through practice, in cutting the hair 
of his many clients sitting at a back door of one of the 
rows, was a common one. Outside the village there was a 
common saying that the customers got a " bowl " clip when 
kitchen bowls were placed on the head and the barber cut 
round the bowl. I never came across any vindication of such 
a rumour and the miners themselves decided that idea was 
so ridiculous that they never troubled to deny it. 

There were very strange ways of eking the family income 
which often became a village contribution and to one I refer. 
On the shores of Fife, near St. David's, were a very large 
number of whelks, known locally as " wilks." The women 
of Fordell used to go down there at certain seasons of the 
year, especially at a spell of " idle days," and collect them 
in pails and sell them to the " herring cadger " at Inverkeith- 



90 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

ing at half-a-crown a bushel for export to London. The 
children of Fordell used to like them, too, when boiled and 
they were a " special " in their plain diet. The villagers never 
went in for what they used to call new fangled dishes, though 
often quite common in other places. Jenny Henderson could 
never be coaxed to eat lettuce, her reason being that she 
" wisna a coo." 

The saying " The poor we have always with us " could 
be applied always to Fordell in the early years. Illness was 
a common cause of it, especially when the one affected was 
the bread-winner. There was no income of any kind to the 
house. The village is in the parish of Dalgetty and the head- 
quarters of the Parish Council was at Aberdour. True, they 
administered parochial relief, but the weekly amounts in 
relief were so small and the travelling so much a difficulty 
in bad weather, even for healthy people, that applications, I 
heard, were never made. At the same time, the fact of a fam- 
ily being on the Parish Council relief, and very often the offer 
of the much-dreaded poorhouse, was so repugnant to Fordell 
people that it prevented applications. The people of Fordell 
had a better way of looking after their invalids or aged 
poor. The word " pauper " was not in their language. It 
was certainly in their minds on occasion but it was never even 
whispered. They did good by stealth, but never had cause to 
blush to find it fame, for it never became known. Here again 
Mr Currie of Mossgreen School played a silent, but active, 
part and he saw that the children never lagged in their edu- 
cation for the want of school books. Even when parents were 
able to afford the price of books he was sure that they were 
not abused and when a member of a family passed a class 
in the school with no younger sisters or brothers to get the 
benefit of the books he saw to it that the books were not 
allowed to lie unused. 

The widows of the village also introduced a problem in 
the days long before the advent of the widows' pension. 
This was where the wee sweetie shop came in. The colliery 
owners in such cases allowed a widow to use one room in 
her house as a " sweetie shop," with a small counter and 
a window for the display of her goods. Here was sold 
sweeties, rock, the smallest of the kitchen and household 
articles, such as a packet of pins, thread, penny bottles of 
vinegar, penny packets of note paper. Once a week she made 
" potted heid " which she sold for a few pence per bowl, 
and often a large mangle was provided so that her customers 
and neighbours could get their washing mangled at so much 



JOHN TAMSON'S BAIRNS 91 

a bundle. The young men of the village and the pithead girls 
used to call and perform the hardest of the mangling and 
thus the old woman secured a livelihood and maintained 
her independence. Thus the village dealt with and solved 
their own troubles with a modesty and a satisfaction of which 
they had every cause to be proud. I have referred to their 
desire to remain a complete and independent community 
and one can now understand one reason for this and it was 
a commendable one. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

The Lowdeners 

THERE was one time when an unconscious attempt 
was made to interrupt this one family atmosphere. 
It was in 1866, when three families of miners invaded the 
village from the Lothians to find work in the Fordell Colliery. 
They were promised work by the management, against the 
wishes and inclinations of the entire village. 

Necessity may be the mother of invention, but in this 
case it determined that the families, in each case a father 
and mother with three sons miners, and daughters, too, of 
working age, and children of school age, numbering in all 
twenty-four, had to take up residence and work there. 

They were given work in both the Lady Ann and the 
William pits but they were far from being accepted. All three 
heads of families had dealings with the Lothian Branch of 
the Miners' Union but that did not simplify matters. Fordell 
miners and the inhabitants looked upon incomers as undesir- 
ables, " Loudeners " or " Wast County Irishmen." The latter 
referred to Irishmen in the mines in the west of Scotland and 
some had got the length of West Fife but none had come 
to Fordell. The Loudeners were the first to get behind what 
now would have been called an " iron curtain." 

The three families were " tolerated " for a very few years. 
One went to Cowdenbeath and another went there also by 
means of Hill-of-Beath to the collieries of the Cowdenbeath 
Coal Company and The Fife Coal Company. The third 
family, after a short while in a railway engineering works 
at Edinburgh, returned to Crossgates. The only effect that 
they had on the village life was that a son in the third 
family was later married to a Fordell young lady but did 
not take up residence in Fordell, but in Mossgreen. He later 
became a leading official in the Fife Miners' Union. Thus 
that " invasion " was defeated. 

With the opening of the Alice Pit in recent years and 
with it more important development, gradually the miners 
employed there increased and they found that it was more 
convenient to reside at Cowdenbeath, and whole families 
removed there. That included the Japps, McArthurs, Muirs, 



THE LOWDENERS 93 

and Beveridges. The village instinct was retained and even 
survived the closing down of the Lady Anne. By that time 
the Fordell Brass Band had been disbanded, the Paraud a 
thing of the past, and the Flooer Show discontinued. With 
the introduction of the nationalisation of the coal industry 
came the death knell to Fordell. The old miners' rows were 
condemned as insanitary and not worth bringing up to mod- 
ern conditions. St. David's harbour was closed and all the 
trade was done through the railway which passed the Alice 
Pit, their chief asset being the coal from the Fordell Splint 
which had earned a great reputation for its high quality. 
Today, only a few County Council houses are inhabited, 
while close by stands the ruins of what was for a hundred 
years a unique village, the only one of its kind in Scotland 
or Britain. 

For sanitary reasons and on hygienic grounds a large 
number look, with satisfaction, on the departure of Fordell 
as vast housing schemes, with all modern conveniences, 
spring up within a few miles, providing all home comforts 
as baths, bedrooms, hot and cold water, lavatories and coal 
bunkers, all inside, not the least being wooden floors, but 
forgive me if I think of that " neeborliness " and that family 
spirit shown not only in times of rejoicing but equally brought 
out in the bearing of one another's troubles and burdens. 

As I have been looking on the ruins of the village I have 
relived the many familiar scenes with ghost characters and 
I come to the conclusion that while on the one hand the 
miners of Fordell today are enjoying the many benefits of 
advancing civilisation long overdue, there is something that 
has not been carried forward with these improvements in 
social conditions and which has been lost for ever. I slowly 
arise from my vantage point to spend a time looking over 
the tombstones in Mossgreen Churchyard and as I read 
the names, growing indistinct with age, my thoughts go 
back again to Gray's Elegy. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Mr Currie and family 

I RETURN, however, and as I sit here, picturing our 
school days of over sixty years ago, I realise the bene- 
fits of contentment, especially when I recall a poem in which 
the author proves that it would not be to our peace of mind 
if we were able to predict what the future held in store for 
us.. He expresses thus in the following lines: 

The lamb thy riots dooms to bleed today, 
Had he our reason would he skip and play? 
Pleased to the last he crops his flowery food 
And licks the hand that raised to shed his blood. 

With this thought in my mind, I recall how we enjoyed 
the very simple things life had for us, perhaps more so than 
the school boys of today with all the modern means of 
amusement and to those more serious minded the extra 
means of education. I picture clearly the boys and girls pro- 
ceeding to Mossgreen School by way of that beautiful, though 
short walk, through the Bulwark and the carefree attitude 
with which we entered the classrooms of the Currie family, 
Mr Currie, or his son James, or his daughter, because of the 
great interest they took in us educationally and socially. If 
they were strict, especially Mr Currie, it was in one direction, 
namely, cleanliness. No matter how poorly any one of the 
pupils was dressed he or she must have clean hands and 
each one had to take great care of their school books. They 
impressed on all of us that our parents had to pay for the 
school books, very often at the expense of household necess- 
ities, that they themselves did without. 

In the same school were boys and girls from Crossgates, 
including Springhill, and while in school we all enjoyed a 
certain companionship that ceased when the school was 
dismissed at four o'clock and the Fordell pupils went east, 
and the others went west. Our opinions of the " enemy " 
were mostly vocal, unless we were outside the vigilance of 
Mr Currie, but the Fordell spirit, born and bred in the 
Fordell Watties of younger growth, was deeply embedded. 
There was one matter, shared by our parents, mostly all 



MR CURRIE AND FAMILY 95 

former pupils, in which we were not divided, and that was 
the high respect and almost loving regard for Mr Currie and 
his family. Mr Currie had one aim in life and that was to 
give his pupils all the education he could possibly instil. In 
this, he got the sympathy and assistance of the Henderson 
family who, besides providing prizes to induce the pupils 
to give of their best, presented special tit-bits in a general 
way. Mr Currie had also a way of his own to encourage the 
best from us — by the gifts of a penny each to pupils whom 
he described as a credit to his class. This specially referred 
to the visits of H.M. Inspectors. I remember one particular 
day when Mr Smith, the Inspector, examined the class his 
first question was in connection with the Battle of Quebec. 
I happened to be the first he asked and, very fortunately, 
the night before I happened to read a book dealing with 
this, and being interested in this battle and General Wolfe, 
I recited this to the extent of over a hundred words. The 
Inspector was so pleased that he said he would ask no more. 
After his departure, Mr Currie questioned the rest of the 
class on what they knew about the battle and, alas! they 
knew very little. That was made the occasion of two pence 
that day as " I had saved the honour and reputation of the 
class." That night I was a hero and I did not go home by 
the Bulwark but by College Brae, in the company of two of 
the girls of the class, Mary Hamilton of the College, and 
Aggie Japp of Coles Terrace, who selected me for special 
attention to the annoyance of the other boys. On another 
occasion, I recited the whole of the 12th Chapter of Ecclesi- 
astics and I got another honourable mention, along with the 
usual financial consideration. Once again I was selected for 
special favours from my girl friends when I again took the 
long way home. I felt highly honoured at the special atten- 
tions on the way and, as I had repeated the whole chapter, 
I felt I was quite entitled to all the good things said about 
me. One mistake I did make, however, and it was that in 
the recital of the various verses about the wheel broken at 
the cistern and the dust returning to the earth as it was, and 
the spirit returning to the Lord who giveth it, I failed to 
realise that that recital of the verses was less important than 
the understanding of them. Several years later I was in 
church when the minister made that particular chapter his 
lesson for the day. I remember him starting with the well- 
known words "Remember thy creator in the days of thy 
youth" and inaudibly I went over the chapter with him. 
Then the great truth struck me and the meaning of the words 



96 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

dawned upon me for the first time. Then came the greatest 
shock, when he came to the words " Vanity of vanity, saith 
the preacher, all is vanity." In my spirit of boastfulness, I 
must have read that chapter many times and had not under- 
stood what the words meant and the words " Vanity of 
Vanities," now fully understood, showed me for the first 
time how blindly vain I had been. My thoughts went back 
to Mr Currie, who had passed away a few years previously, 
and I never have had the opportunity of explaining my 
shortcomings to the girl friends of my youth, but I hope 
that my blushes will be spared if I meet them by them 
having forgotten the incident. 

Mr Currie's interest in his pupils was not only during 
school hours but was often expressed in private talks with 
our parents, all with the one idea, namely, the advance- 
ment of our education and it was always a source of great 
regret when a bright pupil had to leave school after passing 
the fifth standard to go to work to eke out the family in- 
come. He regretted the absence of the continuation classes 
and did his best to encourage pupils after leaving school to 
continue studies. I will always remember how one night, in 
a coal house, with the light of a candle, he expounded the 
Pons Asinorum of Euclid. The blackboard was a large 
" gathering coal " and I will never forget how he went over 
the problem until, as he said, " all the asses had crossed the 
bridge." 



s\ 




~1 





Picture of St David's Harbour from an o 




One of the original Fordell waggons, used in connection with the priva 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Boys will be boys 

OCCASIONALLY, when confronted with juvenile 
delinquency of more recent years and, as well, 
the many benefits of more recent times almost showered on 
the boys and girls in the way of children's treats, organised 
games, and outings, I cast my mind back to recall how we 
behaved as boys. 

Firstly, I wish to state that our behaviour could very 
well be summed up in the common expression of excuse for 
boys, namely, " boys will be boys," and that covers a great 
deal. We did not lament the absence of the Cinema in the 
village for a very good reason and for the same reason there 
was no cycling and so we had to make our own amusements 
in games that did not cost anything. Rounders, leap-frog, 
and the usual boisterous games were indulged in. Football 
was beginning to have a hold in the county and various 
attempts were made to form a village club by the boys them- 
selves. The procedure was the same in each instance, namely, 
a collection book went round the doors, and we were very 
lucky to get as much in that way as buy a ball in the vicinity 
of three shillings, all in penny donations. The " Committee " 
took the money to the manager of the " Store " who secured 
the ball. The team was formed with plenty aspirants for 
any vacancies and we played friendly games with other 
schools in the district. The name of the team was " Fordell 
Heatherbell" and our big day was when we walked to 
Dunfermline to play a team there in the morning, the team 
carrying a " piece " each so that we would be in a position 
and a condition to crawl under the fence or over it to see 
the Dunfermline Athletic game in the afternoon. These Dun- 
fermline games always coincided with the Athletic, our 
heroes, home games, and the same care was taken for home 
games with the Cowdenbeath team. One of our players, 
John Ford, and mind you he stayed at Springhill, outside 
the limits of Fordell, eventually played for Dunfermline 
Athletic. This must have been before the days of transfer 
for we took him from the Crossgates team. I remember in 
the early days the position of goalkeeper was not popular, 



98 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

for then it was quite legitimate for one opposing player to 
charge the 'keeper while another scored. I have vivid re- 
collections of this because I was usually the goalkeeper. 
As I said, we had various teams, for the club usually came 
to an end when the ball was past repair and, after a time 
of idleness, we started the whole proceedings over again to 
get the necessary ball. Goal nets were not used. As a matter 
of fact, we had no goal-posts and there were often hot argu- 
ments about whether or not the ball was too high for the 
'keeper to possibly save before the goal was allowed. Some- 
times we had great difficulty in getting a team to travel, as 
often a player had first of all to run the Saturday messages 
before he was allowed to travel with his team, after a depu- 
tation had prevailed upon a mother, who thought that the 
messages came before football. Once there was a question 
of whether or not we could leave to play at Dunfermline or 
Cowdenbeath from a moral point of view, as the fear was 
expressed that we would be soon as bad as the boys were 
in these "toon-." 

However, tiiere was never any danger of that calamity 
falling on Fordell. The boys were just boys with all boyish 
tricks and pranks but I cannot remember any occasion when 
the local police-man had to be brought in to attend to any 
misdemeanour. Perhaps the reason for this was that, as all 
the boys in the village were miners' sons, the colliery manager 
saw to their good behaviour. I remember once some of the 
boys, including myself, set fire to some dried grass in the 
vicinity of the workshops, with no seeming danger to any 
property, but next day after school we were taken to the 
colliery office by our respective mothers and there we re- 
ceived a dressing-down by the manager. We never returned 
there again. Occasionally the policeman from Springhill 
came to the village, but it was only to get his book signed 
to prove that he had been there at a certain time. 

There may have been cases from Fordell at the Dunferm- 
line Sheriff Court but I cannot remember even one. To us 
boys the policeman was a reminder that " crime did not 
pay " and someone who had to be avoided in an official 
capacity. For a long time the policeman was Mr Mclnnes, 
and I will always remember an experience with him of which 
he was unaware. My brother and I were returning home 
from Crossgates through the Bulwark Wood when I spied 
a " cushie doo's " nest at the top of a tall fir tree. I was 
dared to go up and that dare was not to be scorned to 
maintain my prestige and so up that tree I went. I had just 



BOYS WILL BE BOYS 99 

informed my brother, younger than I was, that there was 
one egg in the nest when he called out to me that " the 
' bobby ' is coming," and then made off. I started to descend, 
but I soon realised that I had not the time to do so and 
escape, so back I went up the tree to the very top. It would 
not be for long, I thought, for I knew that he had not seen 
me. Along he came when, to my dismay and horror, instead 
of proceeding to the village, he stopped at the bottom of 
the tree and, sitting down on a stone, drew out his pipe 
and commenced to smoke. The top of the tree was very 
slender and swung and creaked with my weight. For about 
a quarter of an hour, it seemed like two hours, he quietly 
enjoyed that smoke and then walked away to the village 
and I followed, shaking all over, but very thankful for that 
escape. 

I had another exciting experience at that place. In the 
Bulwark Wood there was a pond of stagnant water that 
nobody knew the depth of. One winter afternoon, when this 
pond was frozen over, we boys dared each other to see if 
the ice was bearing. I risked too much and proved that it 
was not bearing for I disappeared below in the dirty water. 
I did not remember very much beyond hearing noises in 
my ears like Fordell Band playing the " Flooers o' Edin- 
burgh." I woke up in bed. No doctor was sent for but I 
had to swallow a large cup of salts to clear my stomach of 
the dirty water. The relief that I was not drowned saved me 
from further parental punishment. Later I heard a recital 
of the details of the rescue, of how a man passing by just 
managed to get hold of my hair and pulled me out, and of 
how I was carried home on a shutter from Anson Hill. I 
missed that sight but one older boy said that I looked " a 
bonrrie corpse." I did not miss the next incident in the Bul- 
wark when Jimmy Lyon, from the Lang Raw, fell down 
from a tree and fractured one of his arms. I was one of the 
stretcher party that got the same shutter and carried him 
home. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

A tough breed 

THE Fordell " Watties " must have been a tough 
breed. They had practically nothing in the way of 
special home comforts, as compared with the miners' houses 
of to-day. A wooden tub in the middle of the kitchen floor 
was the equivalent of the splendidly equipped pithead baths 
of to-day and only a few houses had wooden floors, the 
exceptions to the fireclay brick floors. 

Many an old Fordell miner used to say that stone 
floors were handy in one way. When he let his pipe 
fall on the floor, only clay pipes were used, he "needna 
bother pickin' it up," and the " auld wife " said that applied 
to crockery also, but it was a blessing that cups and saucers 
were cheap and clay pipes were six a penny. The companion 
blessing to the modern pithead bath is the arrangement for 
the drying of the miners wet clothes at the pithead. Not 
only did the earlier miners have to walk home in all weathers 
in their wet clothes, but the drying of them occupied all the 
attention of the miners' wives in the evenings and all the 
available space in front of the fire. There were no complaints 
about a service of hot water for they had not cold water 
laid in. That supply came from the cast-iron wells outside, 
one for each miner's row. The water was kept in pails in a 
recess between the back door and inside door of the kitchen. 
These were covered to keep out the dust and the domestic 
cat in search of a drink. 

There were only open fire grates which limited the fare 
to soups, potatoes, stews and boiling beef and anything that 
only required frying. A necessary article of furniture was 
the washing pot to boil the water for washing day and, in 
the case of a very large family, to make as much " kail " 
and potatoes as supply the needs. When all the members 
of the family were in good health the sleeping accommoda- 
tion was often a worry, but if anyone was ill, it was a prob- 
lem and shake-downs had to be resorted to. Little assistance 
could be given by the next door neighbour, eager as they all 
were to help, but despite all these drawbacks, the village 
was wonderfully healthy. 



A TOUGH BREED 101 

No district nurse visited the village but the midwife was 
a constant visitor. Then some of the youngest members of 
the family had to " bide " a day or two with their relations 
who could squeeze them in. 

There was never anything in the way of an epidemic 
which was something that they were thankful for. If there 
had been, no blame could be attached to the drains for, as 
far as I ever knew, there were none. I never remembered 
ever seeing a fever van in the village and the ambulance 
waggon in mining districts was unknown. Fortunately there 
were no serious accidents in the Fordell pits and the colliery 
stretcher proved suitable for all cases. There were, of course, 
always the colds, bronchitis, etc., and a few had influenza 
when it was fashionable as a new disease. Still there were 
cases of illness and old people had eventually to be set aside 
for attention. 

Miners, as a general rule, never lived to what was gen- 
erally called a ripe old age and a miner constantly employed 
in the coal mines was an old man at sixty years, whereas 
today many miners are still employed underground over 
seventy years of age and they walk erect. The old miners 
used to be easily recognised by their bent backs, more so 
the taller men, as a result of low working places. Fordell 
old miners were an exception to this rule and quite a few 
lived to pass the allotted span. There were two reasons for 
this. One was that the Fordell miners did not have the long 
stretches of continuous work for the reasons I gave previously 
and miners had time to spend in their gardens for which 
the village was famous. 

It was indeed a healthy exercise and recreation only 
available in good weather with good air to breathe, and 
the sky as the " roof." Then the colliery management was 
very good to the old miners in finding work for them on 
the surface, such as the maintenance of the colliery railways 
or odd jobs at the pitheads or colliery workshops. Such 
work was known among the miners as " abine " ground 
and a story is told of how an old miner went to a pithead 
foreman and asked for a " job abine wark." The reply was, 
" I hope you get it ' luddie ' for I've been lookin' for a job 
like that nearly a' ma life." I told this story to an English 
friend without success until I told him that " abine " was the 
Scottish word for above. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Under the surface 

IN recent years I have been closely connected with old 
folks treat committees, organised about 1910, first of 
all for a social gathering and then for outings in the summer. 
Other bodies took up the matter, until now the ageing 
population, especially those of seventy years, are entertained 
in several ways. Old age pensions have reached and now 
have passed the thirty shillings a week mark. This some- 
times makes me wonder if the unarranged method adopted 
by the village for the care of their old folk had not a beauti- 
ful point in it, lost in the present scheme of things in the 
care of the old folks. The retirement pensions gives a certain 
amount of independence, but oh, how the old folk hate the 
words National Assistance on their pension books and the 
words Home and Hospital does not take away the feeling 
that they are dependent on charity. There is no doubt what- 
ever that the old folk get many more comforts today than 
the village of Fordell could bestow on their veterans, but 
their independence was preserved with the absence of official- 
dom with its charity lists and public manifestations. 

In Fordell there was that united, happy family feeling 
that meant so much to the old folk as they were made to 
feel that all the benefactions came from the sons and daught- 
ers of that large, united family. I cannot help from feeling 
that with the increased national and local attention to the 
old folk for their gtaeral welfare that it would be such a 
blessing and relief to the old folk if the Fordell spirit found 
a place. One old lady friend of mine is always very per- 
turbed at the National Assistance on her pension book and 
it is always a question of her needs versus her pride and 
dignity as to whether she refuse to answer the same old 
questions that are asked at intervals as to her financial 
position. The words Retirement Pension would make such 
a difference. Her position always reminds me of that famous 
quotation from Romeo and Juliet, " My poverty but not my 
will consents." 

Sickness and death, despite the excellent health enjoyed 
by the inhabitants, could not be kept entirely out of the 



UNDER THE SURFACE 103 

village and now and again death paid an unwelcome visit. 
In the march of time the aged eventually went the 
way of all flesh and in such a case it was a village funeral 
and a village in mourning. It always struck me as a peculiar 
feature of the village that while deaths were very few in 
each established family the father could always attend a 
funeral in the orthodox mourning attire, which included a 
hard hat, black tie, and black clothes, which were stored 
away in one of the drawers of the old fashioned chest of 
drawers and were as carefully laid away at the end of the 
day. When the Laird passed away the miners were represented 
and, at the funeral of Lady Henderson, there were eighteen 
miners present as pall-bearers, with tile hats, in relays of 
six, to carry the coffin from the Castle to the Chapel in 
answer to a last request by her ladyship, revealing the strong 
affection between master and servant. A Fordell funeral was 
a man's affair and no more appropriately solemn company 
of mourners ever followed a hearse. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

The care of the aged 

THE position of the aged miner who, after a very 
strenuous life of toil, and no longer able to main- 
tain himself and his wife, but had to depend on his family 
for their maintenance, was always a social problem in the 
village. 

In most cases, each of their sons had a large family to 
support and the loss of their independence was always in their 
minds. They were dependent on their relatives for their keep 
and home, and even for the small luxuries, such as tobacco, 
making their lives a mere existence in a house in which 
the accommodation was limited, with nothing to live for. 
Their fondest dream was that in their days of retirement 
the aged couple could get an " end o' their ain," a one-roomed 
house, but that was only a forlorn hope as they had not 
even the means of paying the rent, not to mention their food 
and clothing. Continually in their thoughts was the terrible 
dread of having to spend the rest of their lives in the " puirs- 
hoose," or workhouse, which would be to them the end of 
everything. The leaving of the village to spend their days, 
separated from each other, dependent on the meanest form 
of public charity after a life of useful toil was like a horrible 
nightmare to them. The " big hoose " in the " toon," with 
the county prison on one side and the cemetery on the other, 
was often pictured in their minds, but never referred to in 
their speech. It is to be recorded, however, that though there 
seemed to be no possible escape for them entering that 
building on the entrance to which could well be written the 
words " Abandon hope all ye who enter here," something 
always cropped up and the village never failed their veterans. 
Though it was little they could do, they always succeeded in 
some way in putting off that day they so much dreaded. 
Make-shift measures become permanent and a " slice off the 
loaf was never missed " was the main argument for each 
action. The old folk remained in the village and the married 
ones stayed together to give mutual comfort to each other 
when needed and when the end came to each one he or she 
was laid to rest in Mossgreen cemetery, " up the brae," with 
the loving care of their life long friends when word ' pauper ' 
was never mentioned or even thought. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A village family 

SICKNESS, especially that of serious nature and among 
women and children, was a woman's affair and a 
change in the bustle of village life was noticeable. The children 
were duly impressed of the great need for silence in the 
vicinity of the house where the patient was in bed and they 
spoke only in whispers. Boisterous games were discontinued 
and hourly bulletins of how the patient was progressing, or 
otherwise, were conveyed by mouth to mouth through the 
rows. 

Occasionally a serious illness attacked one of the children 
of the village and it was in such instances that the entire 
village were united in a common sympathy and bereavement. 
During the illness, and afterwards, verbal sympathy was ex- 
ceeded by that of a practical kindness, and the thought that 
was predominant was the wish to help in some way. Miners 
would gladly " lie on " for the father of the invalid child, 
an expression to mean he would do his own day's work and 
then return to the pit to do a day's work for the father in 
order that he could sit up with the patient all the night. In 
such an instance there were no words of thanks asked or 
given. Such actions was always fully understood and appreci- 
ated and verbal thanks would upset both parties. News of 
the patient's condition was broadcast throughout the village 
from door to door. The main source of information was the 
village well nearest the house of the patient, At such a time 
the " neebors " were always needing water, usually attended 
to by boys or girls, but on such an occasion the women went 
there themselves for it was there the bulletins were sent out. 
Three women, with pails already full of water, would be 
joined by another whose first question would be, "Hoo is 
she this mornin', Nell? " 

There was no need to state who the ' she ' was, for the 
whole village knew it was Jeannie, the elder daughter of a 
miner and his wife, whose house was only a few yards away. 

"Weel, we dinna richt ken except that Mrs Japp said 
that she wisna sae richt this mornin'. Hooever, it's aboot 
the doctor's time so we're jist hingin' on tae see." 



106 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

Talk turns round the question of what the ailment is 
and Nell says she heard it was " a sittin' doon cauld efter 
gettin' weet when two or three of them went tae Eberdour 
and got drooked." 

Mrs Brown added that she was aye feared o' thae sittin' 
doon caulds as it often led to pneumonia or pleurisy and 
maybe waur. 

" You can never ken what a cauld will land into," said 
Nell. 

Eventually one sees the doctor coming out of the house 
by the back door. He apparently had gone in by the front 
door. As he passed, they eagerly looked at his face to try 
and get same idea from his expression about how serious 
the situation was, but they got none. 

Who was to go and find out? Eventually the oldest, Mrs 
Bell, having the biggest family, is deputed to inquire. After 
knocking gently at the door, she is admitted and then her 
friends wait patiently for her return. 

It was some time before she reappeared and it did not 
take her friends long to learn that she had got bad news and 
when she shook her head sadly they were convinced of it. 

" She's taen pneumonia," she said slowly, " and she is in 
a bad way." 

" Ye ken, I was feared o' that, but I didna like tae say, 
hopin' I was wrang," said Nell. 

" Weel," said Mrs Bell, " there's nae guid tae be dune 
talkin' aboot it. We have tae dae oor bit. She canna leave 
the wean an' there's things tae be got frae the chemist. I 
have the doctor's line here and I'll get oor Wull to gaun 
tae Crossgates for the medicine. He's on the back shift." 

Bad news travels fast and soon all the village are in- 
quiring in what possible way they can help. The younger 
member of the family is taken away to be looked after by 
an Auntie and more offers of bedside sitters are made than 
can be taken advantage of. Cooked meals find their way 
into the afflicted home and the mother has no worries about 
washing day as, according to the " neebors," " two or three 
bits o' things extra is neither here nor there." So the days 
go slowly past, the mothers always having in their mind the 
day when the invalid " will take the turn " for the better 
or worse. It takes one who has had a Jife-long experience 
of these hardened sons of the mines to really appreciate 
anxiety that is occupying the mind of the father, never ex- 
pressed in words. 

To do a day's hard work for a companion would be 



A VILLAGE FAMILY 107 

a much more simple matter than the giving expression of 
his feelings, or to talk in affectionate terms to the invalid. 
He is at loss to know what to say or do at the bedside and 
a long walk in the country is his escape from himself. In 
her quiet moments, the invalid, when alone with her father, 
thinks of her Sunday School class and she will express the 
wish for the recital of some hymn, but again, the father is 
at loss to know what is appropriate. Of a sudden, he remem- 
bers a verse of a hymn and, hoping his memory will not 
fail, he starts slowly: 

// / come to Jesus 
Happy I shall be, 
He is gently calling 
Little ones like me. 

He heaves a sigh of relief at remembering so much and at 
the knowledge that she has fallen asleep, drawing the bed- 
clothes round her neck, looks at her affectionately and softly 
he leaves the room. If a tear comes to his eye, he roughly 
brushes it away with his hard hand and he goes out into 
the night for that blessed solitude when he can battle with 
his emotions. 

The day of the crisis comes and the news is broken joy- 
fully that she has taken the turn. The whole village rejoices 
with thankfulness. The reaction is again a trying time for 
the father's emotions and, if he does not go for a solitary 
walk, he willingly accepts the invitation of some of his 
friends to join them in Mrs Hamilton's in the " College." It 
is an escape valve for his pent-up feelings and emotions, 
never condemned, but so readily understood as a thanks- 
giving. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

Heroic women 

— , 

L VER since I first took an interest in social matters, 

ft-rfboth commercial and individual, I took a special 
interest in the women of Fordell. As I got to know them 
better, through close acquaintance in their daily life, and 
got really to understand their attitude to their responsibilities 
as mothers and members of a community linked up into one 
big family, and what they were prepared to sacrifice for the 
general welfare, I found I had developed an admiration for 
them and all they represented. 

As girls they were fortunate in their school life in that 
they had a schoolmaster who, besides giving them a strong 
foundation in the three R's and sewing, he devoted special 
attention to their cleanliness and manners. Clean hands and 
face, especially the hands, was demanded and the proper 
care of their clothes was duly impressed upon both boys 
and girls. Honesty and due respect to their elders was de- 
manded from his pupils. It was not enough for a pupil to be 
clever and even brilliant. He or she had also to be clean, 
respectful to their elders, honest, and possess good manners. 

Thus the girls left their school days behind them, deter- 
mined to live up to the moral code laid down by Mr Currie, 
who helped them considerably by keeping in touch with 
them whenever he had the opportunity and very often he 
made the opportunity. 

At twelve years of age the girls did not go into employ- 
ment right away, except in a few cases, but they did house- 
work, lessening the arduous task of the mother, who generally 
had to look after a large family, especially those under school 
age. She always found plenty to do in the house, leaving 
the mother to look after the cooking of meals during the 
day and the drying and mending of the pit clothes at night. 
Bringing in the messages was one of the girl's duties, while 
she had to keep a constant supply of water from the street 
" well " and coal from an outside wooden cellar. 

Let us take a look at the domestic conditions that pre- 
vailed in the village in these days. As I stated previously, 
the houses were of two-apartments, a but and a ben, some 



HEROIC WOMEN 109 

lucky to have wooden floors. There were two fixed-in wooden 
beds in each room, and old-time open fire with no oven. 
An average family would consist of eight persons, father 
and two sons, miners, two daughters over school age, and 
children at school. One of the oldest girls would probably 
be working at a pithead and the mother would have to " pit 
the workers oot in the mornin'." That meant preparing break- 
fast and making up the " piece boxes," four " shaves of 
bread " in the form of sandwiches, one with butter and the 
other jam or cheese. The butter was margarine, known gen- 
erally as " pit butter." As the work at the pit started at six 
o'clock the four workers had to leave home shortly after 
five o'clock. There was a quiet time until the bairns had 
to get ready for the schule, which began at nine o'clock. By 
that time the general work had commenced. The " messages " 
had to be got from the " Store " and, as the children came 
home from school at one o'clock, the dinner had to be at- 
tended to. The most common meal was " kail," the name 
for vegetable soup, cooked in the " kail pat," one big enough 
to hold as much as supply the whole family. In it was cooked 
a piece of boiling beef and another pot was used for boiling 
the potatoes. The children at school were first supplied 
shortly after one o'clock and the rest was kept hot for the 
workers at three o'clock, but before the introduction of the 
eight hours day that hour was often extended until past 
four o'clock. By that time the workers were ready for that 
meal and in their pit clothes they sat round the table in 
the middle of the floor. During the meal the mother, helped 
by a daughter, prepared the warm water for the men to 
wash themselves. As this was many years before the idea 
of baths being in the house, and before the introduction of 
the pithead baths, the procedure of the washing was the 
placing of a large wooden tub in the middle of the floor. 
The men washed themselves right to the waist but not the 
back as that was considered conducive to a weakening of 
the back. Each one was only too glad to throw aside his 
pit clothes and boots as very often they were damp when 
he worked in a " wet place " in the pit. There was no carpet, 
as, after the operation, the floor had to be thoroughly washed 
out and scrubbed. 

The men then generally took a walk when the weather 
was good or did some work in the garden, the source of the 
vegetables that were part of the mid-day meal. The mothers 
were then left with the care of the pit clothes and boots. The 
latter had to be dried and cleaned and rushed to the cobbler 



110 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

if repairs were needed, but necessity often made the miners 
do their own repairs. The drying of the clothes often made 
life in the room very uncomfortable for the clothes occupied 
all the space in front of the fire. The nature of their work 
was such that the mending of the clothes was a daily per- 
formance. This was done after tea and was a tedious and 
painstaking job. 

Such was the daily routine of the women of the village 
and one can easily understand that Sunday was indeed a 
day of thankful rest. 

Yet the women did not choose this life blindly, for all 
their lives, especially after school days, they fully realised 
what was in front of them if they did not step out of line 
and seek another career. They knowingly accepted the life 
as a fulfilment of their duties to the village that meant so 
much to them, the home of their forbearers for many gen- 
erations. They were never heard to complain, but amidst such 
discomforts, it is surprising how they could pick out and 
enjoy the few bright spots when they came along. To follow 
in their mother's footsteps could not be a pleasant prospect 
but they cheerfully did so and, in due time, married a young 
miner of the village and started another generation. When 
I think of the women of Fordell I touch my hat to them 
as they stand out in my memory as real heroines of industry. 
That refers not only to the women of my school days but 
to generations in front of them, when their work at home 
was even more arduous when they took part in the actual 
work of producing coal in the pit itself. 

Coal was worked on the Fordell estate hundreds of years 
ago but only the very top seams which came to the surface 
or, to use a mining term, " crapped oot." The accumulation 
of surface water in the workings, however, prevented work 
to any considerable depth, and then another surface seam 
was tapped further north and one nearer to Crossgates. One 
of the Fordell Lairds went in for a very expensive scheme 
of an underground water-way called a " day level " and took 
the water to a low part on the estate, just a little above sea 
level. This allowed lower seams to be operated and other 
pits were sunk. To accommodate the increased number of 
miners, the proprietors then erected the village of Fordell 
in the latter part of the eighteenth century. In these days the 
men worked at the coal face, but the women were also 
employed. Their job was to take the coal in baskets or 
creels to the pit bottom and at one time actually carry the 
coal up the pits, fixed with stairs, long before the days of 



HEROIC WOMEN 111 

mechanical raising of the coal, first of all by horse " gin." 
The For dell women continued in this work until 1850 when 
an Act of Parliament put a stop to females being employed 
underground. Their hours of labour were long and their 
wages very small but were necessary to raise the family 
income to a living wage. In the winter time, and even the 
spring and autumn, the men at the " face," and the women 
on the low roadways, never saw the daylight until Sunday 
came round. 

Indeed it was no surprise to find that the older men and 
women walked with a stoop because of the long hours em- 
ployed in very low working places. Holidays were almost 
unknown and so stern was the necessity for the women to 
work as much as possible that there were occasions when 
a child was actually born in the pit. In my youth I actually 
had it first hand from some old women that children were 
born in the pit and were nursed by their respective mothers 
in a recess in the " waste " when the mothers had the op- 
portunity to do it. As the Act of Parliament, that gave the 
miners their freedom from serfdom, was passed many years 
before this time, then women must have been employed 
underground more than fifty years after the miners, male 
and female, were given their freedom of service, celebrated 
every year by the Fordell Paraud. This is the story of the 
women of Fordell long before the village came into existence. 
When I first heard of the reason for the Paraud I used to 
wonder what they had to rejoice about, but the fact stands 
out prominently that their appreciation of the kindly act of 
colliery owners had been kept alive for a hundred years by 
the annual time of rejoicing in July. 

The Fordell miners were never paid any higher wages 
than the general rate of the county but it was the kindly 
consideration of the Henderson family that brought them 
nearer to the hearts of the villagers, such as I have referred 
to previously, prizes for *the gardens, for the flower show, 
the upkeep of the brass band, and the reading room merit 
prizes for the school children, and small gifts to the needy, 
poor and the sick. It was this and the recognition of the 
Fordell miners by a last request from Lady Henderson to 
take their place at her funeral and to carry her remains to 
their last resting place, that made the village so complete 
as a community so effectively as though it was walled round 
about. That the miners and their families did their part in 
this was never in doubt. Poverty was always just round 
the corner and kept there by courage of the Fordell miners 



112 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

and, even more so, by the Fordell women from the dark 
ages when they did men's work in the pits. Devotion to their 
families and a pride in their native village made them do 
wonders in housekeeping. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

Seterday nicht 

AMUSEMENT and entertainment was practically 
nil and the village with no streets, far less street 
lighting, put on the shutters when darkness fell. This 
brought about one blessing, namely, the strengthening of 
the home life in which the mother took the leading part 
in the entertainment of the younger members of the family. 
I can well remember Saturday night as bath night, followed 
by a short concert, all taking part. The " elders' oors " on 
Sunday was eight o'clock and that started the singing of 
popular hymns concluding with mothers' favourite, " My 
Ain Countrie," from Sanky and Moody's hymnbook, in nearly 
every home, and concluding by father reading a chapter of 
the Bible. While this was so, no one ever thought that Fordell 
was a religious village. In fact the " unco guid " who visited 
the village thought otherwise but, to my mind, if ever there 
was a devout religion it was practised by the women of 
Fordell, who religiously devoted their lives to their families 
under all kinds of conditions, without thought of award, 
other than the sense of fulfilment of a duty they took upon 
themselves, foreboding as the future must have been. 



H 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

Story of the Fordell miners 

? n 1 

i HEN we have the men of the village, the back-bone 
J. of the community that dwelt behind those diamond 
panes for generation after generation. 

As a lad, I was deeply interested in these men. I tried 
to get their confidence and occasionally I seemed to get 
behind what seemed to be an impenetrable cloak of silence 
in connection with their past and that of their forefatheis. 
Local knowledge and gossip gave me the idea that, in most 
instances, and especially in the case of the least talkative, 
they were the existing generation of many generations be- 
yond living memory. It was a difficult matter to get them 
to tell me what I, wanted to know as to their life, their habits, 
and how long they had been associated with the mining 
industry. I was most successful with old Wattie and I gradu- 
ally broke down his reserve in my attempts to get really 
inside his inner self. 

" You are a queer laddie," he used to say to me, " but 
I've taen a likin' tae you, yet I canna understand why you 
pit aff your time talkin' to an auld man like me. I'm shair 
you wud be far better aff if you played with the ither laddies." 

When he said that he had taken a liking to me I knew 
I was well on the way to getting what I wanted, for words 
of endearment, even the word " liking " were scarce, almost 
absent, in their vocabulary. 

Then one night in the mirk, when he was resting on his 
" hunkers," as all miners do, after attending to his garden, 
I found him in a rather reminiscent mood. That day he had 
helped to lay an old companion to rest in Mossgreen Church- 
yard. Here was a chance in a thousand and I took full ad- 
vantage of it. I referred to his late friend in a quiet manner, 
how he had so little to say, even among his cronies and in 
the home, of his reluctance to express himself on any matter, 
even his employment, and, least of all criticism, his lack of 
interest outside his work and a devotion to his garden. Be- 
yond the annual Paraud he never seemed to have any form 
of enjoyment and recreation. 

" Does that surprise you? " he said quietly. 



STORY OF THE FORDELL MINERS 115 

I confessed that it did and he remarked, very pointedly, 
that I did not know the Fordell miners. 

" Why are they so much different from any other miners 
I had met with? " 

" Weel, luddie, that is quite a long story " he said. 

I assured him I would like to hear it and with a " Weel, 
luddie, as there is nothin' ' pushin' ' the nicht, I'll tell you 
a thing or twa aboot the Fordell Watties." 

" It gauns back a gey lang time tae the days afore coal 
howkin' and that is hunners of years back. That was the 
time afore folk kent what coal was. Withoot takin' in Dun- 
farlin', with its weavin', the only ither wark in these pairts 
was fermin', though there was eye somethin' daein at the 
herbours like Chairlestown, and sic places alang the East 
coast. 

" Aroond here it was a' fermin', and of coorse there were 
the big hooses and their estates that gied wark to a guid 
wheen. Then aboot 1300 coal was discovered by accident. 
In Dunfarlin, monks at Pittencrieff found ' black stanes that 
burned ' on the sides of the burn that still runs through the 
Glen. Coal was, as weel, found at Kelty on the banks o' the 
bum at Blairadam. These were the upcast seams, the seams 
o' coal that come to the surface when they ' crapt oot.' 

" Ain o' these seams was discovered between Crossgates 
and Inverkeithing, maybe when plooin' or, maist likely, when 
a field drain was being laid. Hooever, there it was, a fermer 
had coal at his very door. By that time there was a big 
demand for the new fuel that lested longer than wooden 
logs. Miners were ne'er heard tell o', so the fermer had to 
get his ain men, aye, and women ana, the men tae dig the 
coal and the women tae tak' it tae the surface in creels, like 
fishwives' creels, or later like tattie creels, and empty them 
into the ferm cairts an', bein' Jang afore the days o' railways, 
the ferm labourer had tae dae a' the transport." 

" But wha did they sell it tae? " 

" Weel, there was their ferm hooses, the big hooses, and 
coal was needed for the dryin' o' salt at Dysart. Cairts took 
the coal, as weel, tae Inverkeithin' harbour, then in its prime, 
and farther alang tae Chairlestown." 

" But what has a' this tae dae wi' the Fordell miners 
and their weys? " 

" Weel, I'll tell you. Things were cairried on in this wey 
until aboot a wee thing mair than fower hunder years ago. 
James Henderson, a King's Advocate nae doot, for services 
rendered, was presented wi' the lands o' Fordell by the King, 



116 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

and he built Fordell Castle. The Laird later took a special 
interest in this coal business, especially as there was surface 
crap oot at Broomieside, no far tae the north o' the castle, 
and as each was worked oot anither was sunk further north 
until they came tae Drumcooper an' Vantage. The Hender- 
sons maun hae dune mair than tak' a passin' interest, for 
in Fordell Castle there is still a letter o' complaint frae the 
Monks at Inch Colme aboot the quantity o' stanes in the 
coal that had been sent tae them. So you see the complaints 
aboot dirty coal were on the go lang ago an' it gies you an 
inklin' that the Fordell Laird was in the coal business at the 
time. There is nae doot aboot that and as weel he jist cairried 
on wi' the custom o' takin' the workers on the ferms on 
Fordell and the estate workers tae work the coal pits." 

" So that means that the original Fordell miners were 
aince ploomen, and their wives tae? " 

"Exactly that laddie. That's the stock that bred the 
Fordell miners I telt you aboot, hoo the first miners were 
ploomen." 

" Did you ever study the weys o' ploomen an' their 
wark? " 

" They were ' feed ' by the fermer at sae muckle a year, 
that was generally twa or three shillin's a week, a bothy 
for them no' mairried, parridge for their breakfast, a piece 
for the middle o' the day and kail an' tatties at nicht. For 
the mairried men they gat a hoose rent free and their wives 
did milkin'. Their sons, if ony, got wark on the ferm and 
they were " feed " as weel. A plooman hadna muckle option 
in the maitter when he was asked to make the change. As 
a plooman he worked as long as there was licht, stabled and 
fed and brushed doon his pair o' horses every day, includin' 
Sunday. He was ' tied ' tae his employer as a plooman so 
he micht as weel be tied as a miner wi' the inducement of 
shorter hours, Sunday off and bigger wages. 

" Gradually the coal trade increased as additional pits 
were sunk by the Fordell Coal Company when aboot 1790 
an underground waterway, known as a ' day level ' was made 
to carry the water frae the workin's to Fordell Burn, near 
the coast. A waggon road, originally wooden rails, took the 
coal tae St. David's, a private harbour built by ane o' the 
lairds, and it wud surprise you tae ken the foreign pairts 
whaur Fordell coal found its wey tae. The new pumpin' ar- 
rangements and the day level had made the workin' o' 
lower seams possible. Mair miners were needed but new 



STORY OF THE FORDELL MINERS 117 

generations o' Fordell miners solved the problem o' workers. 
But there was the problem o' hooses and, like the ferm 
workers, the miners were 'bund ower' but mair sae than 
the ploomen, for the ferm hand was only feed for six 
months or a year but the miner cudna change his gaffer 
but were pairt o' the colliery as muckle as a hutch so you 
can see that the laird had tae provide hooses for their 
workers. 

" They first of a' built the Moss Raw, then the square an' 
Montieth Terrace and added tae that as time gaed on, but 
only Fordell men and women got the jobs. The ' Store ' was 
built and, as you ken, the miners were paid in groceries, 
claes and even workin' graith. It was a minin' village in 
every wey. Naebody but miners and their faimilies steyed 
there and everythin' was looked efter by the coal owners. 
They even built a schule and did ither things for them like 
encouragin' them wi' their gairdens. Nae doot you'll be 
wunnerin' whey I'm tellin' you a' this. 

" You said a wee while syne that the ploomen were the 
original Fordell miners an' I agree wi' you. 

" I'm a guid sicht aulder than you, laddie, and I've had 
a better chance o' studyin' the ploomen. Did you ever meet 
sic a set o' silent men? Can you wunner at that? Tak a 
plooman. He's up at the break o' day, and aye, often afore 
it. He feeds his horse and sune efter he is followin' his horses 
up and doon a field weel awa' oot o' any contact with any- 
body. He talks tae his horses as he enters the stables. He 
speaks tae them on the wey tae the field and a' forenoon 
he tells them whan tae stop and start and whan tae turn 
roond. It's ' hi woa back Tarn ' or ' keep in the furrow 
Madge,' etc., when plooin' and the horses kens a' he says tae 
them. He has a kindly word at feedin' time, a meal that is 
never mislippened. He takes his mid-day meal wi' them 
and sees tae them bein' fed and rubbed doon at the end o' 
the day afore he thinks aboot his ain denner. His horses 
are his freens and they never talk back tae him, and on 
Sunday he is never far awa' frae them. If he has ony spare 
time he tak's a walk maist often by himself whan, of course, 
he disna talk to himsel', and if he has another plooman 
wi' him the conversation is very limited and there is gener- 
ally a silence as they walk or rest in their characteristic 
fashion over a gate. Like the Fordell miners wi' their Paraud 
they have a day or twa in the year sic like the feein' market 
at Dunfarlin, or July Fair, but life to them is a monotonous 
affair. They have a maister and they serve him well and 



118 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

long service is a feature in their lives. I heard of a story 
that just fits in here. A maister met wan o' his ploomen at 
the yearly feein' market and, efter askin' how he was en- 
joyin' himself, the maister said ' Of coorse, Wull, you'll no 
be thinkin' o' gettin' feed to another fermer? ' The plooman 
caused a surprise by saying he was thinkin' o' changin'. The 
fermer, whan he got ower the shock, asked him if he wanted 
somethin' he wisna gettin'. The reply of the plooman was, 
' Weel, if I bide on I've got tae get a new brecham for 
Jean.' You may laugh, for efter a' it's a guid joke. Here is 
a man that didna think aboot gettin' better workin' conditions 
for himseF and he had plenty reason for askin', and a' he 
thocht o' was a new bit o' harness for ain o' his horses. 

" Here is what I want you tae understand. In the aujd 
days a plooman hadna muckle to pick and choose frae when 
it came tae wark. As a laddie he had tae leave the schule 
at the first chance tae help tae keep the hoose and the only 
job open tae him was on the ferm. He warked awa' wi' jobs 
until he got tae be an orra man, that was tae look efter wan 
horse and did jobs wham* only wan horse was needed, wi' 
his mind made up tae hae a pair. The size o' a ferm aye went 
wi' the numbers o' pairs o' horses. The grieve aye had the 
first pair and the ploomen had the second pair or the third 
accordin' tae the size o' the ferm. When he got a pair he 
was a man for hisseF and his waddin' wisna long efter." 

" Jist like the young miners when they got a ' place ' o' 
their ain at the pit." 

" You're rale quick in the upta', laddie. There wisna 
muckle difference between the weys o' daein' between the 
ploomen and the miners as far as the conditions o' wark 
maittered an' they jist cairried on in the auld wey." 

" It was a peety that there wisna a Robbie Burns among 
them." 

" I often thocht that wey tae laddie. But you maun mind 
that Burns wisna a fee'd plooman. He had a ferm o' his ain 
and anitheer thing he had a better education than an ordin- 
ary ferm hand. Nae doot mony a young plooman lad had 
the same thochts as Burns had but hadna the same education 
and cudna express them in rhyme or even ordinary prose. 
He had his ups and doons tae and had his ain idea aboot 
' man's inhumanity tae man.' I can easy see in my mind 
Burns walkin' ahint a ploo, awa on his ain, makin' up his 
poetry as he thocht aboot hoo the workin' man was kept 
doon and aboot a' the hypocrisy in the warld among them 
better aff, aye, even in the kirk. It's maybe a funny thing tae 



STORY OF THE FORDELL MINERS 1 19 

say but are we no gled that day that Burns wisna rnair 
prosperous? Look what the world wud hae missed. 

"Hooever, let that flee stick to the wa'. The ploomen 
and them that eventually got tae be Fordell miners simply 
took things as they cam', as it says in the poem, " their 
sober wishes naver learned tae stray." There is ae thing 
that sticks oot abune a' thing else and it is the effect on 
their lives by the kindness and consideration given them 
from the big hoose at Fordell. That kept them a' the gitfaer 
as a village and community. They could never forget the 
fact that a laird o' Fordell gave them their freedom from 
serfdom, before it was compulsory, and the many kindnesses 
both open and secret from Fordell House, especially Lady 
Henderson. Every year for mair than a hunder years they 
marched tae Fordell Hoose to thank them for what they 
had done. That was their only open appreciation o' their 
thanks. The rest they kept to themselves but they were none 
the less sincere an' they kept them together as a community. 
' Am I my brother's keeper? ' was never asked. It was to 
them a religion." 

Slowly rising, with a " guid nicht " we went our separate 
ways home. 

Fordell village is no more than a memory but in all 
parts of the world there are those who have happy memories 
of a village for which a suitable coat of arms would be a 
pithead and a garden and the word " Service." 



Personal stories and anecdotes 

The Bowling Green 

There were a few exceptions to the conservative life of 
the village. One was the fact that the village could boast of 
being one of the first in West Fife to have a bowling green. 
It was laid out by the Fordell Coal Company next to 
" Lovers' Loan " and the mineral railway, next to the 
" Gaffer's " house. It was of a smaller size than the ones 
laid out later in the district and gradually it fell into disuse. 
In the village, quoiting was more favoured as a recreation, 
when local duels attracted a large number. 

Had own gas works 

Another exception was the gas works, erected by Fordell 
Coal Company, at the colliery workshop, but as a light it 
was only made available for the workshops, the colliery 
office and the village reading room, when before the days 
of the incandescent burners the old-fashioned gas-jets were 
in use. In the miners' houses there were only paraffin lamps. 
These exceptions, which I am sure will come as a surprise 
to the outside world, were never taken kindly by the village. 

The coal used in the manufacture of the gas was the 
" Parrot," a highly inflammable coal, not very plentiful and 
only found in narrow seams about two feet in thickness. 
It was very smooth and some of the miners, artistically 
inclined, used to make beautiful brooches and small boots 
which hung from their watch chains. An ordinary penknife 
was the tool used and the finished article, even to the lace 
of the boot, was uniquely artistic. 

Harry Lauder 

How many people are aware that Sir Harry Lauder had 
a connection with Fordell? John Smart was my informant 
when I paid him a visit one night to talk over old times and 
he produced a photograph to prove his words. The picture 
shown is the one he gave me and one can easily see it is 
Harry Lauder, and the lady is his wife. The association with 
Fordell is the fact that Mrs Lauder was the daughter of 
Mr Valentine, the " gaffer " for many years in Fordell 
Colliery, and Harry Lauder thus married a young lady well 



PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 121 

known in the village as a girl. John told me he got the 
picture from an Aberdour photographer many years ago, 
so probably it was taken when the couple were on a visit 
to Aberdour while they were residing in Portobello. 

Oldest native 

The question of who was the oldest native of Fordell has 
always been the subject of much heated argument but very 
few know that the oldest native was a frog, or known locally 
as a " puddock," which was alive after an existence of 
thousands of years. My father, while employed in the Lady 
Ann Pit, broke up a large piece of ordinary coal when, to 
his surprise, a frog jumped out. He caught it and found that 
it had come from the coal because there was a vacancy the 
exact shape and size as the frog. He brought it to our home 
in Coles Terrace. At that time I was a very small boy and 
I cannot recall exactly what happened to the frog but I 
have the strong impression that Mr Morton sent the find to 
a museum. The frog, of a dark brown colour, was very 
probably a toad. It only lived for a few hours after it arrived 
home. 

"Smairt" Family 

I mentioned the Smart family, pronounced " Smairt " 
in the village. How many generations of the family resided 
and were employed at Fordell is not known. It is known, 
however, that John Bennet Smart was a miner in Fordell 
and resided there for a long number of years. His son of the 
same name was born there and remained all his life there. 
He went to work in the pits there when nine years of age 
and retired after an accident in 1879, a continued service of 
seventy years. In his family there was another John Smart 
who completed fifty years in the Fordell Pit while resident 
in Fordell village. He then retired, a victim of rheumatism, 
and came to reside at Cowdenbeath recently, where he cele- 
brated his golden wedding. On that occasion he paid a visit 
to his beloved Fordell only to see it in the process of de- 
molition. When a boy he took a great interest in Fordell 
Band and at last got a wish fulfilled when he became the 
drummer, following in the steps of his tutor, Robbie Hardie. 
At that time the Fordell Band was at the height of its popu- 
larity and were always in request. He told me recently of 
how they used to accompany the Dunfermline factory girls' 
annual outing. He recalled one such outing when the band 
went into Dunfermline with the factory train at five o'clock 



122 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

in the morning, a train that started at Lochgelly taking the 
girls to the "toon," as Dunfermline was best known by. 
That morning they did not go to work but they assembled 
at the Erskine Beveridge factory, 700 in all, and following 
the band walked to the Upper Station, a walk over a mile, 
where they went by special train to Dunkeld. On another 
occasion this party went to Linlithgow where they caused a 
great stir by dancing on the streets to the music of the band, 
something new in the life of the sedate town, the popular 
penny reel being danced eighteen times. This was to the 
delight of the inhabitants and especially the publicans who, 
he added, treated the members of the band handsomely. 

John, however, committed an unpardonable village 
offence for he married a " stranger." She was Jenny Arnott, 
one of the eldest of the family of John Arnott, who went 
to Fordell from Crossgates, but she was then only an infant 
of one year. That family was never accepted as natives 
though, as can be seen from the picture of the Amott family, 
twelve in all with two absent, they must have been resident 
in Fordell a very long time. I give you this picture for 
another reason and that is to give a general idea of the large 
families at that time. I leave you with the problem to solve 
of how such a family resided in a two-roomed house. This 
picture was taken about fifty years ago. 

Fordell Band 

Many of the stories of the village are associated with 
Fordell Band and here is one that goes back to the days 
of the toll gates. Returning one night from an engagement 
they came to Auchtermuchty where a toll was collected after 
midnight. It was kept by an old man and woman who de- 
manded toll as it was past twelve. An argument took place 
outside and a member of the band, Deil Broon, took ad- 
vantage of the argument to slip into the house and turn a 
grandfather's clock back an hour. After he returned un- 
noticed he waited a short time and then said that for the 
right time they would go by the time showing on their own 
clock in the house, and added, " it was sharely only fair." 
The old man and woman agreed to this at once and it was 
only the next morning they realised they had been cheated. 

On another occasion they were walking home from a 
place nearer home when they asked for, and were given, a 
lift in a farmer's corn cart. They soon fell asleep but so did 
the driver and the unguided horse left the main road and 



PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 123 

went into a grass field. The horse went round and round the 
field and two hours later, when the driver woke up, it was 
to find that they had only travelled a short distance of their 
journey home. 

A very prominent Fordell family was the Gibb family 
of whom Peter was the big drummer for a long number of 
years. After an engagement many miles from home Peter 
became the owner of two hens which he killed and placed 
inside the big drum after removing one of the skins, which 
he cleverly replaced. A policeman entered upon the scene 
and a search was made for the hens but despite remarks by 
Peter that the policeman' was getting 'hot and cold" while 
near the drum and going away from it, they were never 
found and the hens found their way to an invalid in the 
village on their return home. 

The Beveridge twins, Rob and Will, were both members 
of the Fordell Brass Band and on one occasion, when Dundee 
was selected for the Fife Miners' Gala, they were in the band 
that led the Fordell contingent. Because of the early rise, 
that reason is as good as any, they both arrived at Dundee 
much in need of a shave, and Rob took the first chance to 
visit a barber who commented on the " heavy growth " of 
his beard. Rob replied that he had shaved that morning, 
which the barber said was impossible, but Rob assured him 
that was so and added that he would be as bad in a few 
hours' time. This the barber discredited and when Rob 
maintained he was shaved that morning the barber challenged 
him on the point and if he came back any time that day 
he would shave him free and give him half-a-crown. Here 
was a grand chance to get half-a-crown and get his twin 
brother Will a free shave, so a few hours later Will went 
into the shop and said, " Here T am for that shave and the 
' hauf croon '." The trick came off and the twins boasted of 
how they had " bate " the Dundee barber for a long time 
afterwards. 

Two cronies of the village, no names this time, both 
members of the band, used to have great arguments about 
their ability to play when they met in Mrs Hamilton's and 
their arguments used to be carried on as well about their 
work. They never got together in a social capacity but they 
would argue about something or other to the great amuse- 
ment of the others in their company. But one died and was 
buried in Mossgreen Churchyard, quite near but higher up 
than the main road, in front of the church. Some time after- 



124 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

wards his cronie was proceeding home carrying " one over 
the eight " when he staggered against the cemetery wall and 
fell. Looking up he said, " Tak' in your big feet Will and 
no' hae folk fa'in' owre them." 

Not far away was the well-known Coaledge public house. 
The local name for it was " College " and this led to an 
amusing dialogue one night when a well-known Fordell man, 
who was the Paraud Deacon for many years, met an old 
friend inside. The friend, whom he had not seen for some 
time, said that he had been disappointed with his son whom 
he had sent to college for several years and he had not 
passed. Whereupon the Deacon said, " Man Jimmy, dinna 
let that worry you owre muckle. I've gaen tae the College for 
fifty years and I hivna passed it aince." 

A story is told of how a well-known Fordell man, after 
leaving the " College " for his home in the Square, forgot 
to turn in to that row of miners' houses and went straight on. 
Eventually he slipped down a small embankment and finished 
up with his feet in a small burn and he fell asleep. A man 
passing by wakened him but, thinking he was in bed, said 
drowsily, " Mither, pit the blankets owre ma feet " and 
looking towards a waning moon added " and pit that candle 
oot." 

The drummer who lost his band 

There are two versions of this story and you can take 
your choice of the right one. 

Fordell Band were engaged for " Dirthill " Flower Show 
and duly appeared in the village after their walk from 
Fordell. The drummer, Peter Gibb, at the rear of the band, 
was under the impression that they were to march to James 
Street and then on their return to go down the Aberdour 
Road to the school where the Flower Show was held. But 
the rest of the band did otherwise and turned down towards 
the school and did not go up the hill to James Street. Peter, 
behind the big drum, did not see this and he went proudly 
on all on his own until he was over the hill. It was then he 
realised this and, looking at the crowd, now laughing, came 
out with the now famous expression, " Have you seen a band 
onywey." 

The other version is that it was Robbie Hardie who was 
the drummer and the incident took place on a Friday night 
when the band went up the College Brae instead of going 
along Coles Terrace as was their usual practice. Those who 



PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 125 

favour the latter version argue that it must have been Hardie 
as he was a smaller man, but George Gibb, nephew of Peter 
Gibb, says there is no doubt but that it was his Uncle Peter. 

Umbrella feat 

Bob tells of another Gibb story which I have heard from 
another two sources. The three brothers Peter, Geordie and 
Frank were standing at the College one " lag " Saturday 
forenoon, on a very warm day in July, with a strong 
" drooth " (thirst) after the night before but without the 
wherewithal to quench it. I am convinced that this applied 
more to Peter and Geordie than to Frank who only joined 
in the " ploy." They were at a loss to know how to get the 
drink of beer they so much wanted and at last Peter con- 
ceived a plan which he put into action. He went into a house 
there and came out with a big umbrella. They sat down to 
await the arrival of the " beer cairt " from Dunfermline, on 
its way to Dirthill. This was a horse and a lorry that carried 
a load of big bottles of beer, known as " Prestonpans," which 
the driver sold to customers on his round. When the " beer 
cairt" approached Peter opened the big umbrella and pro- 
ceeded to walk in front of the " cairt." The sight of a man 
carrying a big umbrella on such a warm day, with the sun 
beating down, attracted the attention of the driver so much 
that he made up his mind that the man was " aff his heid." 
He kept watching Peter so closely that he did not notice 
Geordie and Frank following up and hiding behind the 
" cairt " taking as many bottles of beer and " planking " 
them on the roadside to be reclaimed later. 

The battle of Fordell 

Right in front of the old schoolhouse is a field which I 
often heard referred to as " The Battlefield " and eventually 
I made inquiries of the oldest natives as to the reason of 
the name. It was then I was told that the village was " up 
sides wi' Inverkeithing and has it's battle tae." The story, 
handed down during the generations, is that Cromwell 
fought a battle there — against whom was never stated. Rab 
Penman told me it was referred to in a historical book he 
got in " Dunf arlin " and he took it to Lammas Fair at In- 
verkeithing to show the folk there that they " cood bounce 
aboot a battle an' a' " and didn't remember bringing it back 
home that night. Whiles, he said, there was a talk to erect a 
stone in the field but " it aye fell throo." 



126 BEHIND THE DIAMOND PANES 

Touching scenes 

Many stories are told about the strong devotion Fordell 
Watties had for their native village and how many had sacri- 
ficed opportunities to improve their own position and, more 
important, the opportunities to their families for advance- 
ment by leaving their native village to be employed in places 
where there were more than the one industry. They fully 
realised that not only would they get better social conditions 
for themselves but that their family could select other call- 
ings and escape from the foreboding prospect of a life asso- 
ciated only with the mining industry and how they could 
get ambitions realised but the village ties and their camer- 
aderie were too strong to permit of them giving such a 
suggestion more than a passing thought. Some were tempted 
to leave when a strong temptation of bigger wages came 
along but of that number a very few left the village for good. 
Most of them returned to the village and of them it was 
stated that they were only too glad to return. They simply 
could not stay away and were so glad to come back that 
they swore they would never go away again and that they 
were so pleased to come back to the family circle that they 
felt they " could kiss the rails " that ran throughout the 
village. 

I put this to an old native, Jimmy Muir, when I met him 
at Cowdenbeath and he laughed heartily at the thought of 
miners kissing the rails but shortly afterwards admitted 
" there's an awfu' lot in what you say." 

There were very strong indications of the great love the 
older members of the families had for the village when the 
village was condemned. Many simply refused to leave and 
drastic action had to be taken by taking the roofs off the 
houses. There were many touching scenes as the miners and 
their wives followed their furniture as it was carted away 
to houses in Crossgates and Halbeath. One old lady simply 
refused to leave. She was the very last in the village and 
resided in the only house left with a roof. However, she had 
to go and as the roof was taken from the house her furniture 
was being taken to a furniture van. The last scene of all was 
when she was escorted quietly from her home and the home 
of her forbears for many generations with tears running 
down her face. When the " College Brae " was reached the 
van was stopped and she was given her last look of her 
beloved Fordell. 

This picture I will carry in my memory as long as I live. 



PERSONAL STORIES AND ANECDOTES 127 

Today the village is derelict but it is so easy to depicl 
the village as it was in my school days and relive the many 
scenes in this unique Scottish village. Only a few yards away 
is Mossgreen Churchyard and, as the darkness deepens, it 
does not take a strong imagination to see the spirits of well- 
known figures in the life of the village having a last look 
down on the Fordell they loved so much.